


Familiar Strangers

by ShadowsintheFlames



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Drama, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2017-11-28 16:21:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 37,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/676416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowsintheFlames/pseuds/ShadowsintheFlames
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time, Rose Tyler believed in impossible things and happily ever after. But that was years ago. Before the man she loved and fought for abandon her. Rose doesn't believe anymore. Then one day, Rose meets a stranger in a bowtie and tweed jacket. Why does he seem so familiar? What is it about this familiar stranger that draws Rose in?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So, I feel guilty for my tardiness in updating Forever. I'm still working on it, but school keeps getting in the way. This has just been lying around for weeks and it's just the beginning. It's just a short prologue. Let me know what you think!
> 
> disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who.

The Doctor felt guilt creeping into the corners of his mind as he carried little Amelia Pond into her house and tucked her in. He had always regretted promising five minutes and returning twelve years late. He should have known better by than to make promises of any kind.

Well, it had taken a while, but here he was, nearly on time.

Amelia unconsciously snuggled into the covers as the Doctor tucked her in.

The Doctor sat down beside her bed, watching her sleep. Then he began to tell her a story. The story of a young Time Lord who borrowed a blue box and ran away. He always meant to return it, but he went on, travelling in his blue box, having wonderful adventures and making new friends wherever he went. All stories had an end though, he just hoped Amelia would remember this one.

The Doctor finished his story. He looked at Amelia again. She was still fast asleep.

"The cracks are closing. But they can't close properly until I'm on the other side. I don't belong here anymore. I think I'll skip the rest of the rewind. I hate repeats." the Doctor said to the sleeping little girl. "Live well. Love Rory. Bye-bye Pond."

The Doctor kissed the girl on the forehead and stepped away. He was almost tempted to continue. He could see Rose again. The events of the last year of his tenth self were too painful to revisit though.

Instead, the Doctor took a step toward the crack in Amelia's wall, knowing it was time to end it all. Maybe he would find some peace in the Void.

At least he would be closer to Rose, the Void would no longer be between them.

The Doctor braced himself, and stepped into the white light. Funny, he had always thought the Void would be black.

It was the strangest sensation. The Doctor could feel himself being unraveled from existence itself, his entire life peeling away in layers.

He was fading...

Suddenly, the Doctor was facing a golden light through all the white. It touched him, and he felt himself being woven back together. What could have that kind of power?

The Doctor took a step closer, then another ( _what was he even walking on?_ ), not daring yet to hope that the golden light was his salvation. Maybe Amy had done it. She remembered him, and now the golden light would take him back to her.

The Doctor walked on, and allowed himself to be enveloped in the golden light.

The world was nothing but gold. It felt soft and comfortable. Was that how it was supposed to feel?

Time felt warped.

Then suddenly, it was gone. The golden light faded.

The Doctor looked around, then felt his hearts skip a beat.

No, this was impossible.


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the first chapter! Yet another story that begins with the Bad Wolf Bay scene from "Journey's End."
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who.

_Rose grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and kissed him. It was an amazing kiss. It was deep and passionate. It was the best moment of his short life so far._

_Somewhere in the background he was aware that the TARDIS was wheezing as the Doctor and Donna left this universe forever. He didn't care, though. He had Rose, and that was all that mattered._

_Rose suddenly pulled back and spun around as she too heard the familiar sound of the TARDIS leave her for the last time._

_"No!" Rose shouted as the blue box faded away._

_He took Rose's hand in his and she leaned on his shoulder._

_He felt envy well up in him. Even though the Doctor broke her heart and left her, she was still hurt by his departure. Would he ever be enough for Rose? He quickly pushed down that envy, telling himself in was to be expected. She had torn her way through the walls of the universe to get back to the Doctor, it was only logical she would be upset by his departure._

_He reminded himself that is was_ his _lips she had crushed her own against._

She could still have regrets. Maybe she even regretted the kiss. _Dark doubts whispered in his mind. He quickly pushed it back with the envy to be dealt with later._

_He would give Rose all the space she needed, until she was ready. Then he would show her that he was all the Doctor ever was. He was just as much the man she loved as the Doctor ever was. Really he was more, he was better, because he had the courage to tell Rose the truth when the Doctor had been a coward and run away, as always._

_This was not the end of the Doctor and Rose Tyler. This was just the beginning, and it was going to be brilliant. It had to be._

* * *

The Doctor gaped at his surroundings as the golden light faded.

He was standing in the middle of London. A London with zeppelins in the sky. Pete's world.

Rose's world.

His duplicate's world.

The Doctor's mind began working at lightning speed. How did he get here? Was there a gap to the Void in this universe? Should he be concerned? At least his universe was safe.

But if he was erased from time and space itself, then how could he even exist in this world? Well, obviously he was here, but did that mean Rose would be here? If he never existed back in the other universe, then Rose never would have come here in the first place, because the Doctor would never have brought her here. But if he did not ever come here, then this world would be overrun with Cybermen right now, so maybe Rose was here, unaffected by the changes that were occurring in the other universe.

What was Rose doing right now? Where was she? Did she ever wonder about him still? What if she hated him? She probably did. He had left her on that damned beach a second time. He couldn't face her. He would get slapped.

Wait! He had regenerated! She wouldn't recognize him! Maybe he could see her after all!

Wait, what about his duplicate? He left them together forever. What if she was married now?

Was it stupid to be jealous of yourself? Not that he was, because he wasn't. Time Lords don't get jealous. Oh, who was he kidding, of course he was jealous!

He would just have to avoid them the rest of their lives. Blimey, no TARDIS, he had to live life in _order_ from now on. How would he ever get back? Would he want to?

Maybe he could be friends with Rose. Rose, Rose, Rose... There she was...

The Doctor's brain suddenly froze.

There was Rose, running by, just on the other side of the street. She was running as if her life depended on it.

Rose looked terrible. Her make up was streaked down her face. Her clothes were torn and dirty. Her hair was wild and unkempt.

The Doctor watched as Rose leaned against a building to catch her breath. She collapsed on the ground then, sobbed wracking her malnourished frame.

The Doctor felt a surge of anger course through his veins. Who had hurt Rose so terribly? He may have let her go, but he would still tear apart the universe to see her safe and smiling.

Well, there was only one way to find out.

The Doctor took a deep breath and crossed the street. He could do this. He _would_ do this. He had dreamed about it for so long, never believing it would be possible again. He was going to talk to Rose.

* * *

Rose was running. She had been doing a lot of that lately.

Sometimes Rose could almost imagine the Doctor was next to her, running next to her with his hand wrapped around hers. She wished he were here. He could take her away. He could save her from her nightmares.

But not today. Today she was just running in circles. There was no escape. The Doctor was never coming back. she was stuck on this planet with no way of hiding from _him._ From John Smith. The Doctor's duplicate. Her husband.

The Doctor had told her back on that bloody beach that he and John were the same man. He was wrong. Or maybe he was right, and Rose had simply failed. Failed to make John better, like she had once made the Doctor better.

Either way, John was not the man she loved, and Rose would have given anything to see the Doctor again.

Rose kept running. Maybe, if she was lucky, she would make it out of the city this time, before John's people found her and dragged her back to him. She was still dressed in the clothes she had run off in. They were torn from before she had escaped John, and dirty from winding her way through alleys. Maybe no one would realize it was her. Why would the Vitex heiress and wife of John Smith, the director of Torchwood, run in ruined clothes through the streets of London?

Except, everyone knew why. Yet no one had the courage to help her. Even her own parents refused to help her. They had tried, really, and Rose would never blame them for giving up. They had no choice. John had blackmailed them.

Rose shuddered at the memory of the day she accidentally found out. John had done his very best to hide it from her, but she had ways of finding things out. It was the first time Rose had truly hated him.

Rose had been able to contact some off world allies and have them hide her parents and Tony far away, on the other side of the galaxy. It hurt, knowing she would never see them again, especially Tony. She loved her brother so much. She did not dare follow them though. John would not bother to take the time or money to chase her family across the galaxy, but he could and he would use all resources at his disposal to hunt her down across the universe. So she stayed, to keep her family safe.

Rose paused and leaned against a building to catch her breath and dry her face. Wait, it was not raining. She was crying. Again.

"Why?" Rose whimpered through her tears. "Why did you leave me?" She knew why. John had told her, before things soured. But in times like these, Rose wished the Doctor would come back, just so she could hear it from him.

Rose sank down against the building, unable to carry on. She curled up in a ball and drew her knees up to her chest and sobbed.

Damn. John's men were probably coming by now, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore. Life had lost its meaning 12 years ago, when the Doctor left her with John on Bad Wolf Bay.


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I'm so sorry about disappearing. Hopefully I'll update more often now. Just a warning, this chapter contains mentions of domestic abuse.
> 
> Here's the next chapter! Enjoy!
> 
> disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who.

_It took nearly a day to return to London. Nearly three hours waiting for the zeppelin. Then over thirty minutes to find their way to the place they were authorized to land and board it. Another two hours before the sleep deprived pilot realized they were going in the wrong direction. Three more hours to get to London. By then it was past 3am, so they decided to just spend the night on the zeppelin._

_The whole voyage wasn't that bad. Jackie chattered on about Tony over dinner and through the evening, until she finally gave in to the human need to sleep._

_Oh dear, he was human now. He would have to sleep for several hours every night. So much time of his life, wasted because humans required regular intervals of unconsciousness! (Of course he might not mind as long as Rose was lying next to him when he woke up . . . )_

_Rose stayed by his side. Her hand stayed nestled in his, just as it should be. She_ _was silent the whole trip. She never once spoke, and barely looked at him. He hoped she was okay. She was quieter that he remembered, but it had been almost four years for her, she could have changed since Canary Warf._

_Eventually Rose fell asleep. Her head rested on his shoulder. He kept his eyes on her. She looked beautiful as she slept. He hoped he would get to watch her sleep more often from now on._

_At one point he thought he heard Rose murmur "Doctor." A tear slid down her cheek._

_He wiped the single tear from her face and wrapped his arms around her. Rose snuggled into his arms._

_He resolved make sure Rose knew that_ he _was the Doctor as much as the Time Lord . He would love Rose, and never abandon her. He would always be there for Rose. He would never let Rose suffer again._

* * *

The Doctor crossed the street and approached Rose. He wondered why she was running and crying on the streets of London. Why was she wearing a tank top? It wasn't warm enough out. And why were there bruises covering her arms?

The Doctor stood in front of Rose for a moment, and hesitated. What should he do? Should he hug her? Should he say hello? What should he do?

After a moment the Doctor settled for placing a hand gently on Rose's shoulder. She tensed at his touch for a moment, then relaxed.

"Are you alright?" asked the Doctor.

For a long moment Rose didn't respond, and the Doctor began to think she wouldn't. Just when the Doctor was about to walk away, Rose shifted and unwound from the tight ball she had curled into. She harshly wiped the tears from her eyes, then looked up to see who was speaking to her.

The Doctor studied his pink and yellow human's face carefully. She had a faded bruise on one cheek to match the ones on her arms. Who had done this to her?

The lack of recognition in her eyes hurt more than he expected. Her eyes captured his attention. Rose's eyes were old. They were eyes that had seen more pain and suffering than anyone her age should have. It pained the Doctor to think of what had occurred since he left her on that beach in Norway.

"Careful mate. I'm a married woman." despite the obvious turmoil she was in, she managed to speak with her usual cheek that the Doctor was so familiar with.

The Doctor was unable to suppress the smile that spread across his face. He had missed her voice so much. How had he man aged to go on living without her? Well never again. Even if she was married, he was never letting her go again. "I'll take my chances." he answered, loving that he could talk to her again.

Wait, she had said she was married. Was it to his duplicate? It must be, who else would it be?

"D'you have any idea who I am?" asked Rose. She frowned, like it was surprising he didn't recognize her. Why would that be? To her, he was just a kind stranger.

"Yes. You're Rose Tyler." the Doctor smiled. It was the first time he had spoken her name with this face. It felt wonderful. A weight lifted from his hearts that he hadn't even realized had been there.

For a fraction of a second, the Doctor thought he saw a faint glimmer of recognition as he spoke her name. It was gone almost instantly though, as if it had never been there at all. Maybe it was just wishful thinking on his part.

Something akin to panic suddenly filled Rose's eyes. Before the Doctor could fully comprehend what she was doing, Rose seized him, dragged him into a filthy alley, and pinned him to the wall.

"Are you mental?" Rose hissed. "It's Smith now, has been for a while. I don't know who you think you are, and where you've been, but if you value your life you will never call me Tyler again."

"I- I'm sorry." stuttered the Doctor, taken aback.

The Doctor's brain started to short circuit as he became aware of just how close their faces were. If he leaned in just a little further . . . Since when did he had so little control over himself?

The sound of footsteps snapped the Doctor back to reality, and Rose pulled away.

A rather burly tough man with a feral grin approached them, Rose in particular.

"Well, hello sweetheart." purred the man. "Why don't you ditch that boy, and I'll show you what a real man is like."

The Doctor instinctively reached into his jacket for his sonic. How dare anyone speak to Rose like that!

Rose just snorted and rolled her eyes. Why would she do that?

"I don't think my husband would take too kindly to that." Rose answered.

"Well, you don't seem to mind with that kid you've got pinned to the wall." countered the man.

Kid? He was 907! The Doctor frowned indignantly at the ignorance of this man.

"My husband is John Smith." deadpanned Rose.

Fear sparked in the man's eyes, and he began slowly backing away.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were someone else. Honest mistake, really. Just forget it ever happened." stuttered the man. "Maybe not mention this to you husband?"

The man whirled around and ran away.

The Doctor frowned in confusion. It was nice to know Rose's potential attackers ran away when they knew who her husband was, but what had his duplicate done to inspire such fear?

"Right, now to deal with you." declared Rose.

* * *

Rose watched the thug run away. He was probably running off to report them. Damn. Better make this quick then, if the man who was stupid enough to show her kindness wanted to live to see a new day.

Rose turned her attention to the odd young man in front of her. He was very strange. He looked like a kid trying to dress up as his professor. He wore a tweed jacket, with a bright red bowtie. He had floppy brown hair and bright green eyes that revealed more intelligence that he was currently employing.

Maybe Ianto had recruited him. He obviously hadn't taught him much yet, or he just wasn't very bright. Maybe he was just one of those civilian idiots who was dumb enough to think he would be that one hero that would rescue Rose and whisk her off to another planet to live happily ever after. He didn't seem to know about John though, which was odd. Everyone knew about John.

John Smith and Rose Tyler, everyone knew their story. The fairy tale gone wrong. The Vitex Heiress and the alien hero. The lovers from another world, tearing universes apart to find each other. The happily ever after that was soured. The lies, the betrayals, the blackmail, the tears, the fights, the scandals, the threats, the beatings, the spies, the smuggling, the murders.

John and Rose Smith. The two most powerful people in the world, at odds. The director of Torchwood (pretty much director of the world, though people stubbornly pretended they still had freedom) and the leader of the New Preachers. The law and the rebels. Locked in a silent struggle that made the Cold War look like a childish squabble.

And somehow Rose had managed to collide with the only person on the face of the earth who was somehow blissfully unaware of the war.

But not for long, Rose would have to send this man to the preachers. Strip him of his ignorance, but maybe she could save him. The New Preachers had several off world allies. They did their best to smuggle innocent by-standers off world to safety. It wasn't ideal, but at least he would live. It was better than if John found him.

Rose shuddered as her mind supplied some too-detailed scenarios of what would happen to this man if John found him. The things this man would endure. All because he dared to show her kindness. Too many people had died for her.

"You're chilly. Here." the man said.

Rose felt the man drape something on her shoulders. It was his stupid tweed jacket. When had he moved?

"No! I can't accept this!" protested Rose. If John found it he'd run DNA scans and hunt this man down.

"No, really, it's fine. You need it more than I do." insisted the man. To prove his point he gestured to her bare arms, uncovered by her tank top.

Rose was about to protest, but his fingers grazed her arm lightly. They brief contact sent goosebumps up her arms. What was it about this man that captured her attention?

Well, she would just have to burn the jacket as soon as he was out of sight.

"Fine." relented Rose.

The man grinned brightly. Rose wasn't sure what it was about his smile, but she found herself grinning back. She hoped smuggling him off world would go smoothly. She wanted this man to get the chance to smile like that again. It would almost be worth the bruises John would no doubt add to her collection.

Rose leaned closer, and whispered in his ear.

"There's a chip shop owned by Vitex a few blocks away. There's a waiter there named Ianto Jones. Tell him you've heard they serve the best chips in London, and you want some. He'll say they're out. Ask again. Do exactly as he tells you. Got it?"

Rose pulled away. It was up to the Preachers now. She wished she could do more, but she if she did, John would find the Preachers. She'd already lost Jake and Lisa by being careless. She was never allowing it to happen again.

The man stuttered a bit, like he wasn't sure how to respond.

Rose didn't stick around. If John's men did find him, she didn't want to know.


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter at long last!
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who.

_It had been a day since they arrived back in London._

_Yesterday they spent the day at the Tyler mansion, recovering from the recent events. He met Rose's little brother, Tony Tyler. Tony Tyler was a sweet little boy who hero-worshiped his big sister. Rose doted on the little boy that had her eyes._

_Rose would make a good mother. Not yet, but someday._

_In his mind's eye he could see it, children with her eyes and his hair, running around, playing while he and Rose watched them. Then, once the new TARDIS was finished growing, he would show them the stars, take them to places most people only dreamed of. It was going to be brilliant._

_But not yet._

_First, he had to set up all sorts of boring legal stuff that people who lived in order had to have._

_Rose's fingers were laced with his as they followed Pete Tyler down the streets of London to an office building. It was just a plain office building, with plain people who sat in plain chairs and watched numbers roll by on plain screens._

_Pete summoned the lift, and the three of them stepped in._

_Up, up, up they rose._

_They exited in another office. It was also full of boring people doing boring work, but something about the place was eerie and set him on edge._

_People looked up as they walked by and smiled pleasantly._

_"Rose! I thought you weren't comin' back. Where's Mickey?" asked a familiar voice._

_He turned to the voice just in time to see Jake embrace Rose._

_"Mickey stayed back in the other universe . . ." Rose continued to talk to Jake, but her voice faded into the background._

_He looked more closely and realized where they were. The glass no longer had the logo, the desks were arranged differently, and the ghost shift equipment was gone. It was still obviously the same room though._

_And there, right in front of him, was that bloody wall. That was the wall he leaned against and had prayed to nobody that he could sink through that wall into the other universe. That was where his newly healed hearts had been torn out of his chest. At least, he remembered when the Doctor had gone through all that._

_But it was fine now. He was here, in Pete's World, with Rose._

_"Doctor? Are you okay?" asked Rose._

_He shut down his painful memories, and turned to Rose._

_"I'm always alright." he lied with a smile._

_Rose glared at him skeptically. She let it slide though, and turned back to Pete._

_Pete had a bunch of boring papers spread out on a desk in front of them._

_"We need a name for your legal papers. This universe knows about aliens and all, but you can't put 'The Doctor' on a passport or bank account." explained Pete._

_He thought for a moment. He would have to invent one. Only Rose would get to know his Gallifreyan name._

_"John Smith." That made the most sense. He went by that name lots of times when "The Doctor" would not suffice. Well, the Doctor had._

_No, he was the Doctor. Rose's Doctor._

_"Are you sure?" asked Pete._

_"Yes." he answered. John Smith was as good a name as any. It may as well be his._

_They spent too long setting up bank accounts and stuff._

_Finally, after what felt like hours (according to the clock it had been two hours and seven minutes) they were finished._

_As they walked out, he glared one last time at that wall. He gripped Rose's hand tighter._

_He was never letting Rose go again._

* * *

Rose leaned forward, and the Doctor's brain shut down. The only thought left, _Rassilion, she was going to kiss him!_ He would have liked that to be the case. It was really very ridiculous how much he hoped it would be the case. He was 907! He was a Time Lord! The last of the Time Lords! He should be able to control himself better than this.

Instead, he was holding his breath as old dreams and fantasies resurfaced. Dreams his ninth self had been ashamed of. Fantasies his tenth self thought she knew. Pain this self never allowed himself to feel.

It didn't matter though. Instead her lips found his ear, and she whispered some instructions before pulling away. Then she left him standing alone in that alley.

The Doctor watched Rose walk away. He should let her go. She was married. She had a life of he own. A life he left her to live. He should leave and figure out what he was going to do without a TARDIS now. Yes. That was a good plan. A plan he should follow through. Never mind he was rubbish at following plans . . .

No! He had just found her again! He couldn't just walk away. It had taken all his willpower to leave her with his metacrisis. He didn't have the strength to leave again.

The Doctor ran out in the street, only to find Rose was already gone. What was he supposed to do now? He had to find her again, there was no question about that. But how? She was just one human, and London was a huge city.

Rose's words came back to him. _"There's a chip shop owned by Vitex a few blocks away. There's a waiter there named Ianto Jones. Tell him you've heard they serve the best chips in London, and you want some. He'll say they're out. Ask again. Do exactly as he tells you. Got it?"_

Well, it was a place to start. The Doctor had no plans to follow the instructions of strangers. He hoped this Ianto Jones (where had he heard that name before?) could give him some answers about what was up with Rose.

* * *

The Vitex-owned London chip shop was across the street from Canary Wharf, Torchwood's former headquarters. It was started by Pete Tyler for Rose Tyler after the second time she mysteriously wound up in Norway. The Vitex heiress had a notorious affinity to chips, and it was widely agreed upon that Pete opened the shop so his daughter would always have her chips within walking distance while at work. Along with chips the place sold the original Vitex products that made Pete Tyler a millionaire.

In happier times it had been affectionately nicknamed the Torchwood Cafe. When Canary Wharf had been Torchwood HQ, the place seemed to be crawling with Torchwood employees at all hours. Stories were still told of alien ambassadors that always made a point of visiting while on diplomatic trips to earth. That was still the name it went by.

But that was years ago. Back in the good old days, when Pete Tyler was director, and Torchwood still gave a damn about the people. Before John Smith reformed the institute, and repopulated it with thugs and bastards.

Now the place was run down and going out of business. The few who still dined there were either idiots or shady characters. Ianto Jones was the latter.

Ianto was a former Torchwood employee. He was one of the first to leave Torchwood after John Smith took over. Rumors floated about that he was in league with the revived rebel group called the Preachers, but that's all they were. Rumors.

As for as anyone knew, Ianto was just a waiter now. He was a quiet, somber man, but that was to be expected. He had spent the past three years a widower after being married for ten. His wife, Lisa, had vanished under mysterious circumstances, which only fueled the rumors that he was allied with rebels.

Ianto ignored the rumors. Only he knew the truth of his allegiances. The rumors had gotten him arrested and interrogated twice by John Smith's Torchwood, and both times he miraculously got to return to his mundane life.

Ianto stared despondently at his ring finger as he pours tea for a customer. Not a day had gone by in three years that he didn't recall his deceased wife.

Ianto had briefly considered leaving the Preachers after Lisa's death. He had served them loyally for over a decade. He could leave earth. Escape, like all those others he helped smuggle away. He could start a new life on a new planet, away from this hell earth had become.

He stayed though. It was what Lisa would have wanted. She had always been so dedicated to the Preachers. She hated John Smith, with his twisted ways. So he stayed, to honor her.

Sometimes Ianto wondered if things would have been different if he had turned his back on it all. If he had walked away from the Preachers when they first came calling. Lisa would still be alive. Maybe they would have had children.

Ianto felt hatred well up within him. John Smith had ruined everything. If only the Dimension Cannon had never worked all those years ago, the John Smith would never have arrived in this universe.

Ianto felt resentment bubble to the surface. Resentment for Rose Tyler. He quickly shoved it away. Ianto felt deep pity for the wife of John Smith, but if she hadn't obsessed over returning to the other universe, John Smith would never have come.

Ianto knew he had no right to blame Rose. He would have dome the same if he had been forced apart from Lisa.

If Ianto blamed anyone, it was the Doctor. The hero from another universe. It was one of the Doctor's battles that first trapped Rose here. Rose loved the Doctor, that's why she blasted her way across universes. The Doctor was the one who created John Smith, by pouring his excess regenerating energy into a severed limb just so he could continue to wear the same face. And it was the Doctor who decided to dump John Smith in this universe. If he ever got the chance, Ianto would make the Doctor clean up the mess he made.

Ianto mechanically delivered the tea and moved on to the next table, where a new customer was seated. He pulled himself out of his thoughts so he could take the new arrival's order, and plastered a smile to his face.

Funny, he had never seen this man in his life. The man wore braces and a red bowtie. All he needed to complete his look was a tweed jacket.

"Welcome to Torchwood Cafe. Can I take your order?" asked Ianto.

The man's attention snapped to Ianto. Beneath the mop of floppy brown hair was a pair of strange green eyes.

"Yes. I've heard you have the best chips in London. I'd like to try them."

Ianto's spirits sank. Not another one. It wasn't fair that people were being uproot from their homes to be shipped off to other planets, just because a jealousy, paranoid husband had the power to have men arrested and executed for merely daring to be kind to his wife.

Technically the Preachers were offering a choice, stay and risk arrest and execution, or leave everything you've ever know and live. In the end, it wasn't really much of a choice at all.

Ianto followed the code the Preachers had given him.

"I'm sorry. I'm afraid we're out of chips right now." _Please believe me. Don't ask again._

"Are you sure? I really was looking forward to the best chips in the city."

"I'm sorry." _Did you have family? You won't even get to say goodbye._ "Let me take you to the manager."

The man hesitated for a moment, then followed as Ianto led him away.


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Here's another chapter!
> 
> Just a warning, there's mentions of non-con in this chapter.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who.

_It had been a year now, since the Doctor left them in Norway. It took a couple months for Rose to recover from the Doctor's departure, but after that everything had been perfect. Everyone knew their story now. Mysterious disappearance of the Vitex Heiress, and then her sudden reappearance in Norway with a handsome stranger. Everyone had their own theories about what exactly had happened. Everyone knew what happened next. Their whirlwind romance straight out of a fairy tale._

_John Smith had a hand on each of Rose's shoulders. He wasn't sure when he stopped being the Doctor and started being John. If he had to guess, he would say it started when he began working at Torchwood. Everyone there called him John. Even Rose and Pete called him that while at work. But he didn't mind. Rose still called him the Doctor when they were alone. Sometimes._

_Today was John's "birthday." If you could call it that._

_More importantly, today marked one year since the Doctor left them at Bad Wolf Bay. Rose must have been keeping track, because she had become quieter and more reserved the past few days. She hadn't checked their growing TARDIS is almost a week. She put on a brave face at work, but John could tell it was eating her away on the inside._

_John loved Rose. He hated seeing her like this. All he wanted was for her to smile, and for that smile to never leave her face. After seeing Rose so sad the past few days, he finally realized he wanted to always be there for her, to hold her hand and make her smile. It had taken him by surprise, but he had decided to take a leap of faith._

_So now Rose wasn't the only one whose emotions were eating her from the inside out. John felt his soul being viciously tormented by anxiety. His single human heart hammered painfully against his ribs. He wondered if this was normal, or a side effect of his unique origins._

" _Doctor, where are we going? I can't see anything." Rose complained._

_John smiled as he gently guided Rose. He was rather proud of himself. He had guided her with steady hands so far. His hands had been shaking earlier when he was tying the blindfold over her eyes. He also had trouble focusing as her blonde hair cascaded through his fingers._

" _I can't tell you, Rose! It's a surprise!" exclaimed John. "I promise I won't let you run into a wall or anything."_

" _You better. Mum would slap you if you did."_

" _She would never have to know."_

" _She'd find out one way or another."_

_John rolled his eyes. His least favorite part about living in this world was the fact that he was a celebrity. It had been inevitable. He was the handsome stranger who appeared from nowhere, who fell in love with the Vitex heiress, who also appeared from nowhere. After nine hundred years of anonymously (more or less) running around through time and space, it was disconcerting to always be on the run from at least a dozen reporters. If he sneezed, the whole world knew within an hour. If he held Rose's hand in public, the whole solar system knew. If he kissed Rose, the whole galaxy knew. He could even recall on rather humiliating instance where he accidentally took a bite of a pear and made the headlines._

" _Not tonight." whispered John. He had gone on Twitter earlier that evening and suggested that he was taking Rose to Paris. Hopefully that would keep the reporters away for a few hours._

_John let go of Rose's shoulders and reached up to remove the blindfold. He couldn't help fingering her soft blonde locks before untying it._

_John heard Rose's sharp intake of breath._

_They stood on the roof of the Tyler mansion. Before them was a simple candlelit table with a meal prepared for the two of them._

" _Surprise." John whispered. He wrapped his arms around her and took a moment to inhale her scent. He loved this woman. How had he fallen for her? He got on perfectly fine for nine hundred years without Rose (at least the Doctor had, but that didn't really matter now), and now he couldn't imagine life without her._

_In response, Rose twist around in John's embrace and kissed him. "Thank you." she whispered between kisses._

_Eventually they pulled apart. John guided Rose to the table. He pulled out Rose's chair for her, proud how well he concealed the fact that he used the chair to keep his hands from shaking._

_John took a moment to just admire Rose. She was bathed in the light of the candlelight. She had a far off look in her eyes as she gazed at the London skyline. She was beautiful._

_How was he going to do this? His single human heart thudded painfully in his chest. Were all human hearts this weak?_

_John took one last deep breath, then made up his mind. He cleared his throat._

" _Rose . . ?"_

_Rose turned to fix her eyes on him._

" _Before we start, there's something I, need to ask, you . . ." Wonderful. He was off to a rubbish start so far._

" _And? What is it?" asked Rose._

_Now or never. John got down on one knee. He too a deep breath. He could do this. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out the ring that had spent the past week in there._

" _Rose Tyler." John began. "I've loved you since I first set my eyes on you. I can't imagine life without you, and I hope I'll never know what it's like. Rose Tyler, will you marry me?"_

_For a fraction of a second, John heard nothing, and he was afraid to look at Rose. Terror gripped him. What had he done wrong?_

_Then, just barely a whisper. "Yes."_

_John looked up at Rose._

" _Yes." Rose repeated._

_John stood and embraced Rose. Their lips found one another's. They pulled back for a second and just looked at each other. John took Rose's hand in his and slid the ring on her finger. They both took a second to admire the ring on Rose's hand, then they returned to kissing. It was perfect._

_John felt his heart soar as he kissed Rose. He had belonged to Rose since the day he met her, and now, at long last, she belonged to him._

* * *

Rose glared at John defiantly as his henchmen pushed her to her knees in front of him. John glared back at her. Rose had only made it a few blocks before John's men had found her, and dragged her back to the Tyler mansion.

"Leave us." John commanded his henchmen.

The henchmen didn't move. Either they didn't hear him or they were thicker than Rose had first thought.

"Now!" snarled John.

Like good little soldiers, the henchmen obediently scrambled away. They shut the door behind then.

John waited for them to leave, then turned to Rose. The look on his face made Rose want to crawl away and hide. She remembered the Doctor wearing that look when he was in full Oncoming Storm mode. She had always hated that look. If by some miracle the Doctor came back, Rose doubted she could stand to stay with him. Not while the Doctor wore the same face as John.

Maybe today, if she was lucky, she would walk away with just a few more bruises. That wouldn't be so bad. She could barricade herself in her old bathroom. It pretty much the only place in the mansion free of cameras. John would assume she was sulking. She could work on her escape plan in (relative) peace.

"My sources say you were in an alley with a handsome young man." sneered John. He stepped toward Rose, a predatory grin on his face. "Need I remind you, you are married to me."

Rose cringed as John's lips crushed hers. His hands found their way up her shirt. After a moment, John roughly picked up Rose and dragged them back to their bedroom.

She was unlucky today.

* * *

_Ianto Jones._ The Doctor was sure he had heard the name somewhere before. But where? Ianto seemed familiar, too. He was a man in his early forties who was hiding his grief and pain behind a quiet, professional demeanor. How did a man like that wind up working at a place like this? The people here were different. The shadow of defeat, that hung over everyone the Doctor had encountered so far, was here too. but there was an air of defiance here that the Doctor had yet to see anywhere else. Well, he hadn't been here very long (not even twelve hours!), so there were still plenty of places the Doctor had yet to see.

How did Ianto know Rose?

Ianto smiled politely at the Doctor as he asked for the Doctor's order. He was every inch the man he appeared to be. How could a waiter in a run down cafe be tangled up in whatever it was that Rose was involved in?

Ianto played the part so well that the Doctor had doubts for a moment. Maybe he was at the wrong place. Vitex was a huge company. They could very well have more than one place.

But then the Doctor continued to follow Rose's instructions, and Ianto took him to see the manager. Ianto was definitely the man Rose wanted the Doctor to find. Did Ianto know what was going on with Rose?

The Doctor followed Ianto down the hall to the manager's office. Torchwood Cafe had been a nice place once. The Doctor could imagine very clearly Rose and her friends all dressed up in posh suits, walking in and ordering lunch, laughing about some alien encounter. But the place was crumbling around them now. The wall paper was peeling. Framed newspaper articles that were yellow with age were collecting dust.

The Doctor scanned the headlines and accompanying photos as Ianto guided down the hall. JACKY TYLER BACK FROM THE DEAD? Beneath the letters was a picture of Jacky Tyler. The memory of her slapping his ninth self and kissing his tenth self still make the Doctor shudder. MYSTERY GIRL ROSE TYLER NAMED VITEX HEIRESS. A picture of Rose, wearing a grin that didn't quite reach her eyes. WHO IS ROSE'S NEW MYSTERY MAN? Rose and his metacrisis on a picnic. Had his hair always been that wild? His hearts twisted painfully when he saw the happiness and love in the couple's eyes. ROSE TYLER AND JOHN SMITH ENGAGED! Rose and the metacrisis grinning as they posed for the camera. WEDDING OF THE CENTURY! The metacrisis in a tuxedo, his hair tamed a little, with Rose in a wedding dress. They were kissing. JOHN SMITH TO SUCCEED PETE TYLER AS TORCHWOOD DIRECTOR. Pete Tyler and the metacrisis shaking hands. There were a few more articles after that, announcing "John Smith's" reforms of Torchwood. No more pictures.

They reached the door at the end of the hall. A dull brass plate declared it the manager's office.

Ianto pushed the door open and gestured for the Doctor to enter. _Do exactly as he tells you._ Rose's words echoed in his mind. The Doctor entered the office.

Ianto followed behind him. Ianto closed the door and locked it.

Not that the Doctor noticed. He was too busy gaping at the manager.

From behind the mountain of paperwork, the manager looked up to see who was invaded the office.

The manager was Martha Jones.


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I'd say I'm sorry, but that seems insufficient after over a month. Forgive me? This chapter just refused to be written. Thanks for all the feedback, and thanks for sticking with me so far.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who.

_They got married four months after the night on the roof of the Tyler Mansion. John and Rose would have gotten married the next week, but Jackie would have had a fit. So they waited patiently, and four months later they were married on a sunny afternoon in the front lawn of the Tyler Mansion. The press was calling it the wedding of the century. John couldn't help but agree, but then, Jackie Tyler had planned it._

_After the wedding, Rose and John had gone off on a month long honeymoon. For an entire month they were hidden away on a private island. The press couldn't find them. John suspected Torchwood had something to do with that. It was a wonderful, camera-free, carefree month._

_They were back in London now. They both worked for Torchwood. They both had long, unpredictable hours. Sometimes they didn't see each other for a few days at a time. Life would never be perfect, but John wasn't complaining. He still got to work with aliens, and he was_ married _to_ Rose Tyler _._

_John Smith whistled to himself as he entered the office. He was surprised by how much he liked working for Torchwood. He had expected it to be boring, but it really wasn't any different from the days of the Doctor and the TARDIS. Only now he had more people to work with._

_John started out as a field agent, and quickly rose through the ranks. His knowledge of aliens resulted in him often being called on in most of the other departments as well. As a result, John was swiftly promoted. After just a year and a half after first entering this universe, John was second in command of the Torchwood Institute._

" _Rose!" John called out. "Rose! I'm back! Rose?"_

_Where was Rose? John hadn't seen her since lunch. She was probably out on a mission. Would she be home tonight for dinner?_

_Rose was Torhcwood's top field agent. She never cared for the authority that came with seniority, but she was still regarded with the utmost respect. She even had her own team of field agents, including Jake Simmonds, and this world's version of Martha Jones. Between being Torchwood's top field agent, and living with the first and second in command, she could more or less pick and choose missions as she pleased. She made it home for dinner most nights, but there were still times when a particularly difficult or dangerous mission would keep her from coming home for days at a time._

_John hated that Rose still went on missions. Every time she left on a Weevil chase, or to hunt down a Sontaran, John wondered if she would even come back. There were so many ways she could die. Or maybe she would just decide to not come back._

_John heard his office door swing open. He looked up to see who the intruder was._

" _Mr. Smith-" the intruder began._

" _Leticia Jones!" John greeted brightly. Martha's sister had been a godsend since the day she started working at Torchwood. She taught John how to comprehend all the paperwork that came with his job. After a while he had just given in and named Leticia his PA. She was doing most of his paperwork by then anyway. It made his job a hell of a lot easier._

" _Mr. Smith, it's Rose. She and Martha were out on a Weevil chase. They called Jake for backup, and then disappeared." Leticia announced._

_John's brain froze for a second, then jumped to super speed (which was sadly still slower than the Time Lord Doctor's normal speed). Rose had disappeared? What did that mean? Why did she still insist on going on field missions? Oh, Leticia was Martha's sister, he should probably worry for Martha too. He should worry for Martha anyway, she traveled with him in the TARDIS . . . Well, with the Doctor anyway . . . Well, it was a parallel version of her . . . Rose! He had to find her!_

" _What do you mean 'disappeared?' "_

" _They were in the sewers and experienced some complications. They called in Jake for backup. Once he reached them, their comms went offline. We didn't hear any sign of a struggle, so we believe it was voluntary."_

" _I'm going after them." John headed for the door. "Where were they last seen?"_

" _The sewers under Henrick's."_

" _Send a search party out as well. And let Pete know what's happened."_

_John was out of the office before he could hear Leticia's reply._

_Twenty flights of stairs, a sea of reporters, two blocks, and a taxi later, John was standing in front of Henrick's. Despite being in this universe for over a year, it was still strange to see this place when he clearly remembered blowing it up (at least the Doctor had)._

_John found the manhole almost immediately. It was left open, a gaping hole in the middle of the sidewalk. Someone had left a traffic cone on the cover to warn pedestrians of the danger._

_John scrambled down the ladder. Rose was the only thought on his mind._

" _Rose, we need to get you back." Martha's voice drifted through the tunnels. "You're going to have to tell John sooner or later anyway. For god's sake, you're married now."_

" _Martha's right, Rose." Jake's voice._

_Rose moaned, either in frustration or pain. "Well not today. Now do it already!"_

_John followed the voices, alarm quickly taking over his brain._

" _Rose, we'll get you to the hospital. We'll wipe their records after, but this can't be the solution every time you're too injured to cover it." argued Jake._

" _No. John would never let me out on a mission again if I came home injured. Just shoot me already."_

_A shot rang out. Then a second one._

" _Did it work?" asked Martha._

" _Yeah. She's dead." answered Jake._

_John took off blindly down the tunnels, with only one thought flashing through his mind in big red letters._

_ROSE!_

_What the hell had just happened? Why did Rose want to be shot? Was she really in so much pain she chose death over recovery? And what was she not telling him? Didn't she trust him? And why did Martha and Jake know?_

" _Rose!" John called out. He had to find her!_

" _John?" It was Martha. "John! Oh god, Jake. John's here."_

" _We kept telling Rose. She shouldn't have put it off so long. No way to hide it this time." Jake said. "We're here John!"_

_John followed the voiced of Rose's team. He ran through the dark maze, until suddenly, he could see light coming from around the corner. He turned the corner, and froze at the scene before him._

_Rose was lying on the ground in a pool of blood. Judging by the bleeding wounds on Rose's neck and chest, the blood was most likely hers. Her clothes were torn and soaked in blood. There was a tear at the gash in her neck, and two holes from the bullets she had taken to her chest. Oh god, she had been shot. The worst part was the gold mist she was shrouded in. It swirled in lazy circles over her skin. John had heard of aliens like this. Gaseous life forms that possessed those with solid bodies. Not his Rose. Why her? He watched as the mist swirled over her skin. He saw Rose's bleeding wounds slowly close up and heal. It was a small blessing, but it was a comfort to know this alien had healed Rose's wounds, even if it was for the alien's benefit. He could get her back to Torchwood and figure out how to remove the alien. He just might let it live since it had healed Rose's otherwise fatal wounds._

_Martha and Jake stood off to the side, talking. Their nonchalance confused and enraged John. Couldn't they see Rose had been fatally wounded? (Of course they did. They shot her.) Couldn't they see that an alien was trying to possess her?_

" _Martha! Jake!" John advanced. He could feel the rage of the Oncoming Storm welling up within him. "What do you think you're doing? You shot Rose and now you're having a nice chat? Did you even notice she's being possessed by an alien? Or is that another of Torchwood's bloody secrets? Did it offer its services, or did you enslave it? If Rose dies, then God help you, because I will-"_

" _Doctor!"_

_John fell silent mid-rant._

" _Rose?" John whirled around, rage rapidly fading, to see Rose, swaying on her feet. She was clearly disoriented, but at least she was standing, and very much alive._

_Rose looked at John. "Doctor? No, wait . . . John? John . . . Smith? John Smith, yeah? My Doctor." Rose stumbled forward and fell into John's arms._

" _Rose? Rose? Are you alright? What happened?" John babbled. Oh Rose, she had to be alright. He doubted he could survive losing her._

_Rose snuggled into John's embrace. She hid her face, burying her face in John's jacket. All he could see was her blonde silky hair. Her next words were muffled._

_John understood Rose well enough, though. Rose said only two words, but they made John's blood run cold._

" _Bad Wolf."_

* * *

Martha Jones sat in her office staring absently at her paperwork. God, she hated the paperwork. She missed being a field agent for Torchwood. Back when she was a worked at Royal Hope as a doctor, the paperwork had been the bane of her existence. Being recruited to Torchwood had been a saving grace in many ways. She had been recruited shortly after John Smith's mysterious appearance. It had been a great job. The best one ever. She loved the excitement of meeting aliens, and learning about different forms of life. She even enjoyed the occasional running for her life. Actually, the running was quite often, and she probably enjoyed the near-death encounters far more than a sane person should.

Now she was stuck in a dingy little office, doing bloody paperwork again. Martha hated it, but it was necessary for the sake of the Preachers and Rose. Officially Martha was the manager of Torchwood Cafe. (Torchwood Cafe. Ha! As if they would serve any of the bastards that worked for Torchwood now.) It was just a cover, but maintaining appearances was important these days. "All the world's a stage." Shakespeare once wrote (what must he have been as a person? Martha imagined he was brilliant), but it was literal now. Every move in public had to be carefully planned.

Martha never expected that this is where life would lead her. John Smith had been so kind to her and her entire family in the beginning. Then he tore her family apart. Her parents were dead. They were among the first to see through his lies. Her sister Tish was one of John's most devoted followers. Her brother Leo escaped off-planet with his girlfriend and daughter. Martha doubted she would ever see her brother again. She hoped that in some other universe, somewhere out there, that there was another version of her running around. Still chasing around aliens and loving life, carefree and happy.

Martha heard the door creak as it swung open. She looked up, not sure who it would be. Maybe it would be one of John Smith's officials, come for a routine inspection. Maybe it would be Ianto with another unfortunate soul to ship off-planet. Or maybe it would be Rose with another location to search, as part of the Preachers' other, secret project. Martha couldn't decide which she would dread the most.

Ianto walked in with a young man in tow.

 _Not another one._ Martha felt disappointment settle in her heart. Another poor soul, torn from his family. He had floppy brown hair, bright green eyes, and a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. He must have been from South America, or maybe somewhere in Asia. Definitely not anywhere in Europe. His eyes told of unmeasured sorrow, but they lacked the shadow of defeat that haunted the eyes of those who lived directly in the shadow of John Smith's reign of terror.

"Ooh, now that is just brilliant! Martha Jones! Every universe needs a Martha Jones! Hello Martha!" the young man babbled.

"I'm sorry, but who are you?" asked Martha.

"Ooh, yes, sorry. Parallel universe, parallel Martha. This you hasn't met me." rambled the man. "Wait! That's it! Jones! No! It can't be. I met my Martha's family. You're definitely not a couple, neither of you look happy to see each other. But I'm positive I've seen you before, Ianto Jones. But where . . ?"

The young man stepped toward Ianto and stared him right in the eye, Martha stole a glance at Ianto. He was staring at the young man. He was just as lost as Martha was. Who the hell was this man Rose had sent to be "deported?"

"Never mind! I'll figure it out eventually." the man whirled around to face Martha. "Hello Martha! I'm the Doctor!"

Martha's brain froze. She stared at the young man. There was no way this could be the Doctor. This had to be John Smith's latest attempt to infiltrate their ranks. There was no way this man could possibly be the Doctor.

Across the room, Ianto tensed. His opinion of the Doctor had never been positive. To Ianto, the Doctor was the hero that swept Rose Tyler off her feet, only to abandon her in this universe with the man everyone knew today as John Smith. Lisa's death at the hands of John's men had only increased Ianto's bitterness.

Martha kept her expression neutral, doing her best to conceal her initial surprise. She kept her focus on the would-be Doctor as she repeated her question.

"The Doctor? Rose's Doctor?" asked Martha.

Martha did her best to remain calm. She had to keep the "Doctor's" focus on her. That way he wouldn't notice Ianto reach for the framed photo of the Tyler family. He wouldn't see Ianto open the hidden cupboard behind the photo. And he wouldn't see Ianto remove the gun from the cupboard and aim it as his heart.

"Rose's Doctor?" He paused, as if deep in thought, then smiled. "Yeah. That's me! _Rose's_ Doctor. Where is she? She wouldn't let me talk to her before."

Martha rose from her chair. She walked around her desk, so she was standing right in front of the "Doctor."

"I don't know who put you up to this, _Doctor,_ but for your sake I hope you aren't working for John Smith. Get in the chair." Martha whipped out the miniature alien gun she kept hidden in her pocket. Back when she had been a field agent for Torchwood, the alien gun had been her weapon of choice when dealing with hostile aliens.

"But it's me. I'm the Doctor! Check. I've got two hearts!" insisted the false Time Lord.

"Nice try, mate. The Time Lords aren't the only race with two hearts." Martha countered. "Now get in the chair."

Ianto, gun still raised, joined Martha at her side.

The supposed Time Lord reached up to his chest. He backed slowly toward the chair, babbling the whole time.

"Really. What is it with humans and guns? It's like you were born with them in your hands. Where's my sonic? Oh, right. In my jacket pocket, and I gave my jacket to Rose. Please! Just let me talk to Rose. I can prove I've the Doctor, I just need to talk to her. And the Preachers. What do you lot have against this John Smith? Why are you still pointing guns at me? I can help, just put the guns down. Oof!"

The would-be Time Lord fell back hard into Martha's chair behind her desk.

"Ianto, there's some rope in my desk. Could you . . .?"

Ianto was already moving. Keeping his gun trained on it's target, he walked to the desk. He turned to Martha, gesturing vaguely at the half dozen draws.

"Second from the bottom on the right." Martha answered.

Ianto nodded and opened the draw Martha gestured to. He reached in and removed the several strips of nylon cord Martha kept stashed there, for occasions such as this. This wouldn't be the first time John Smith had attempted to infiltrate the Preachers. This wouldn't even be the first time he had used the strategy of sending someone who claimed to be the Doctor. Regeneration made identifying the Time Lord a tricky task.

Ianto moved toward the man currently occupying Martha's chair. The man in the chair started to thrash about. "No! Please! Listen!"

"Don't struggle." commanded Ianto. "It will only make this harder for you."

Ianto tied the infiltrator to the chair's arms and legs. Their prisoner continued to verbally protest, but he stopped struggling physically.

Martha didn't lower her gun until Ianto had all the ropes secured. Once Ianto finished, Martha lowered her gun and slipped it back in her hidden pocket.

"Thanks, Ianto. Better go back out to the shop, before you're missed." Martha followed Ianto to the door of her office.

Ianto's hand rested on the door knob, the paused. Ianto turned to Martha. His expression was serious, but his eyes were full of sorrow.

"You'll tell me if it's really him, won't you?" asked Ianto.

Martha felt compassion well up for the Welshman. Three years later and he still had yet to find closure over his wife's death. Martha hoped that the man tied up in her office chair really was the Doctor. Maybe the Doctor would be able to help find the closure Ianto needed.

"You'll be the first to know. I promise." Martha assured her friend.

Satisfied with Martha's answer, Ianto unlocked the door and left the office.

Martha turned to face the man tied to her chair.

"Right. We'll have to wait for Rose to prove whether or not you're telling the truth about who you are. If you really are the Doctor, you need to be aware of the current situation. What's going to happen now is I'm going to tell you what has happened since the last time the Doctor was in this universe. Then we'll get Rose to tell us whether you're the Doctor or not. If you're telling the truth, I don't know what will happen to you. I guess it will be up to Rose. But if you're lying, and you're working for John Smith, the Preachers will destroy every record of you're existence. You will cease to exist, and we will kill you."

The prisoner began to protest.

"Be quiet, or I'll have to gag you." commanded Martha.

The prisoner fell silent.

"Thank you. Now, it's been twelve years since the Doctor left Rose with John Smith – that's his duplicate's name – on Darlig Ulv Straden . . ."

* * *

Rose was hiding out in the bathroom adjacent to an empty bedroom in the mansion. It wasn't just any bedroom. It was the one Rose called her own back in the days when she was working with Torchwood on the Dimension Cannon. It was now the only room in the mansion camera-free that Rose could access.

Rose checked the time on the computer screen. She didn't want to stay too long. John's jealousy-fueled paranoia increased when he woke in an empty bed. The last thing Rose wanted was an increase in surveillance on her.

Rose yawned. She was exhausted. She and John rarely had sex anymore. They had stopped calling it making love years ago. When they did have sex, they didn't stop until John had had enough.

These days, John slept like the dead after sex. This was the safest time for Rose to slip away. She was working on an escape plan (she gave up hoping the Doctor would save her years ago). Even the Preachers didn't know. Only Martha and Ianto knew of the full extent of Rose's plan. Jake and Lisa had known too, but they were dead now.

Rose checked the time. She had been gone for about an hour and a half. She still had a few hours left.

Good. _Molto bene,_ as the Doctor would have said. Rose quickly dismissed that train of thought. It wouldn't lead to anywhere good.

Rose noticed the message icon flashing on her screen. When had that started blinking?

Rose clicked on the icon. A message from Martha appeared. It was short and simple.

_We're got another TLD. Get here as soon as possible. -M_

Rose closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then she let it out. Again. In. Out.

"TLD." Time Lord Doctor.

The first couple times this had happened, Rose had hoped. She truly thought that maybe, against all odds, the Doctor had come back to save her.

Now, Rose's hope was dead and gone. She thought John had given up using it as a cover story to try to infiltrate the Preachers, yet here he was. He had sent yet another fake Doctor her way.

Rose considered getting up and going right then and there. She had time.

Rose didn't dare leave her computer though. Not while it was running her program. It was just too risky. The fake Time Lord would just have to wait until tomorrow, until Rose could sneak away while John was at work.

Rose fought off the haze of sleep as she waited for her program to finish. It was going to be a long wait. Over an hour, at least.

Words flowed across the screen.

_Sca_ _nning for unregistered alien tech . . ._


	7. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At long last, another chapter!
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who.

" _So when would I have found out? In five years? Ten?_ On my deathbed?" _John asked angrily. "But the Doctor would have known as soon as you could tell him? Well guess what Rose,_ he left you! _So get over him! He's not coming back! All you've got is me now!"_

_Rose stared at John for a moment. Then she stomped out of the living room. John winced as he heard the door to their flat slam shut._

_John flung himself on the couch. Well that had gone terribly. He had really mucked things up now._

_John looked around the room. They had only been living here a few months. After they got engaged they had moved out of the mansion. They planned on finding a house, eventually. They wanted to travel the stars in their TARDIS before settling down. Now John wasn't even sure if Rose would still want that with him._

_John replayed in his mind what Rose confessed about Bad Wolf. She was like Jack now. She could die, but she came back. It didn't sound painful like Jack described it. Just a soothing golden light, calling her back to the land of the living. She would out live John by hundreds, possibly thousands, of years. She was doomed to watch everyone around her grow old while she stayed young._

_How could he have been so blind? Had he really missed all the signs? And why had Rose never told him? They were married. They were supposed to be a team now. Didn't she trust him?_

_The worst part was that it hadn't had to happen to her. But the Doctor had tried to escape watching Rose grow old and die, and by doing so had cursed her to suffer that very fate._

_John clenched his fists. He was still angry at Rose. She should have told him. They were married now. Did she think he wouldn't notice eventually? Did she think that he was too stupid to figure it out? Weren't married couples supposed to be honest with each other? How many times has she killed herself, just so he wouldn't see her injuries?_

_Nobody could blame John for his angry words, could they? He was hurt, angry, and just a little scared. He had watched his wife die in a pool of her own blood, only for her to wake up a few minutes later. And now he knew it was going to keep happening, possibly forever, while he would grow old and_ _die. He probably had fifty or sixty years left, if he was being optimistic. The blink of an eye compared to how long she had now. One day he would be nothing more than a forgotten memory, lost in the mind of a woman ancient beyond comprehension._

_John stayed up all night, hoping Rose would come back. She didn't._

_When sunlight started to stream through the windows, John gave up. Reluctantly, he ate breakfast. Without Rose, the flat felt cold and empty. His breakfast tasted bland (expect for the banana, of course)._

_John stalled as long as he could. He found as many excuses to remain at the flat as he could. He changed suits three different times, re-ruffled his hair twice, and paced around the flat, randomly tidying things up._

_Finally, John ran out of excuses to stay. He couldn't hide forever (the Doctor certainly wouldn't)._

_John walked out of the flat . . ._

_. . . and was blinded by the flashes of a million cameras. Reporters fired questions too rapidly for John to comprehend, shoving microphones into his face._

" _John, can you tell me . . ?"_

" _Mr. Smith, what has . . ?"_

" _. . . between yourself and Rose?"_

" _. . . over?"_

" _Wait, what?" John was confused. What was going on?_

" _. . . is it really over between you and Rose Tyler?"_

" _What? No!" Why would everyone think he and Rose were breaking up? "And it's Rose Smith, not Tyler."_

_John pushed his way through the sea of reporters._

_This was getting insane. John didn't understand humans. Everyone dreamed of growing up to be rich and famous, but why? There was no glory in everyone recognizing his face, and the lack of privacy was unsettling._

_John finally couldn't take the roar of a million interrogators anymore. He reached for the gun that was strapped to his waist. He had originally protested, but with Rose going on missions so_ _frequently,he found he was grateful he had been forced to carry it around._

_John aimed his gun at the sky and fired. Though he was loath to admit it, he was finding guns more useful all the time. He was starting to see why humans were so fond of them. He would never shoot anyone, though. It was just more effective in silencing the reporters than yelling "Shut up!"_

_It worked. The voices instantly died down. For a moment everyone stared in stunned silence at John. He had used his gun to silence crowds at Torchwood meetings, but this was the first time he had used it to shut up civilians._

_Well they had a story now. Maybe they would sod off._

_John pushed his ways through the sea of stunned reporters. He stalked down the streets of London until he reached Torchwood._

_Everyone was silent as they watched their second in command storm across the lobby to the lift. John could tell they were avoiding him. Every time the lift stopped to let someone else on, they backed away, They mumbled excuses of not wanting to slow him down, of waiting for their friend on the other lift, or that they would take the stairs because they should exercise more anyway._

_At last John reached his office. Leticia was already there, quietly organizing papers._

" _Have you seen the morning news yet, sir?" asked Leticia._

" _No." answered John._

" _I think you should probably see it, sir." Leticia picked up a newspaper and handed it to John._

_John looked at the paper._

_Occupying most of the front page was a photograph of Rose storming out of their flat in tears. In big black letters above the image was the headline. IS IT OVER ALREADY?_

_John's eyes flicked through the article._

Shouts could be heard last night from the flat of newlyweds John and Rose Smith. The couple . . .

_John stopped reading and slammed the paper on his desk._

_The papers got it wrong. He and Rose were most definitely_ not _over. It didn't matter if Rose lived for millions of years after he was dead and gone. What mattered was that they had now. He would find Rose and fix things with her. He fully planned on them staying together until the day he died. He would make sure Rose knew how much he loved her._

_Rose would never forget him or his love for her. John would make sure of it._

* * *

Rose walked swiftly down the halls of the Preachers' base to the holding cells. Martha walked beside her, telling Rose what they knew about this latest man claiming to be the Doctor.

Rose barely heard Martha. Her mind was racing. Her scan for alien technology had picked up something last night. She had gotten Martha to send out a few operatives to check it out. She didn't want to get her hopes up yet, but, she couldn't help thinking that maybe, at long last, she was going to be able to escape from John and his reign of terror.

"He came in the late afternoon. Said you sent him." said Martha. "We did the standard routine. Gave him a brief history of the world since the Doctor left. He's been in the cells all night."

Rose wished John would just give up. Hadn't he figured out by now that sending imposter Doctors wouldn't work if he wanted to infiltrate the Preachers? He kept sending them though.

They reached a sealed holding cell. Martha typed a code into the keypad. The keypad flashed green and beeped. After a second the door unsealed with a hiss and slid open.

"He's here." Martha declared. "He didn't say much. Just that he's the Doctor, he's got two hearts. He did mention something about other universes. And for some reason he kept babbling about Ianto. Said they've met before."

"Thanks Martha."

Martha appeared to hesitate for a moment before speaking again. "You know I'll stay with you, if you want." she offered.

Rose smiled in gratitude, but she could feel how brittle her grin was. "No. I need to do this on my own. And anyway, I'm the only one besides John left on earth who's met the Doctor. I'll be sure to tell you if it's really him."

"Alright, if you're sure." Martha nodded reluctantly. "Just remember. If it is him, Ianto wants a go at him."

Rose and Martha chuckled. It was no secret that Ianto despised the Doctor. The Welshman blamed the Time Lord for John Smith's presence in this universe, and everything that had gone wrong because of it.

Though Rose wanted to defend the Doctor, a part of her (larger than she like to admit) reluctantly agreed with Ianto. The Doctor had never intended for any of this to happen, but he _had_ caused it. It he hadn't been so attached to his current form that he poured all his excess regeneration energy into his hand, the metacrisis would never have happened. John would never have been created, and the world wouldn't be the bloody mess it currently was.

Rose didn't realize her laughter had turned into sobs until she felt the moisture on her cheeks.

Rose took a deep breath and wiped her tears away. She continued to take in deep gulps of air until her tears subsided.

Best get this over with.

Rose gestured for Martha to leave. Rose preferred to interrogate the Doctor's imposters alone. Alone she could pretend for just a few precious seconds that the man she was questioning really was the Doctor, come to save her yet again.

Rose watched Martha leave, they turned to the door. Taking one last breath, Rose schooled her features into the emotionless mask she had been forced to master over the years. She took one step, then another, forcing herself to go forward. She crossed the threshold and entered the cell. Who had John sent this time?

It was the young man she ran into yesterday. They weird one in the tweed jacket. He was still wearing the bowtie.

Rose felt oddly disappointed upon seeing who the Doctor's latest impersonator was. She had liked the weird stranger from yesterday. He had kind, mysterious eyes, and he had seemed sweet. Had it really been nothing more than an act?

Rose shook her head. She had missed the signs, and they had been fairly obvious. He had called her "Tyler" instead of "Smith." He had shown her kindness untainted by fear of being seen.

_Get on with it, Rose._ She would have plenty of time to puzzle over this man later, once she had determined if he was a threat to the Preachers or not.

"Martha tells me you say you're the Doctor." There. Start with a statement. Show no emotion. See how he reacts.

The man's face lit up. How had someone like this wound up working for John?

"Yeah, that's me. The Doctor. How are you, Rose?" he said.

"You should know right now that you're not the first one John has sent claiming to be the Doctor." Rose said. "Promise to leave and never contact or return to earth again, and maybe we'll let you leave here alive."

"Rose! It's really me. The Doctor. And where is 'here,' exactly?"

"Like I'd tell you where we are." Rose scoffed. "If you're really the Doctor, then you will know why I have a hard time believing it."

"Yes, yes. Breaching the walls between universes is very bad. Like both universes would collapse bad."

"So how can you be here?" _Please prove it. Convince me you're the Doctor. I need him._

"It's a long story."

"We've got all the time in the world."

"My universe did collapse."

Rose stared at him. His universe collapsed? Really? John was getting sloppy if he thought she

would buy such a thoroughly ridiculous story.

Rose's mask must have slipped, because the man saw her disbelief.

"No, really." he insisted. "The TARDIS exploded. It cracked reality. Eventually it couldn't hold together and collapsed. I had to reboot the universe. I flew the Pandorica into the exploding TARDIS. I got trapped on the wrong side of the cracks, in the Void. I suppose the force of the explosion flung me all the way across the Void into this universe. I'm not exactly sure. I'm still working it out."

Maybe John had planted a tracking device on the man, because he obviously didn't care about having a believable cover story. Oh well. Good thing the base had over a dozen different cloaking devices and signal-dampening fields from as many different planets working simultaneously to hide the base from John's people.

May as well keep the fake Doctor talking. Maybe he would say something useful. "What's a Pandorica? How could it 'reboot' the universe?"

"It's this big box that was hidden under Stonehenge. All my enemies teamed up because they thought I blew up the universe. They built it. The perfect prison. You couldn't even escape by dying. That's how I rebooted the universe. The energy in the Pandorica that forced its prisoner to stay alive."

Had John been drunk when he made up this cover story? Well, back to business then, since the man before her was sticking to this rubbish. "Right. You'll have to do better than that mate, if you want me to believe you're the Doctor."

"It's completely true! Humans! Don't you have any faith? If you need more proof, I gave you my jacket. Look at it. That should be proof enough for you."

"Yeah? How could a jacket prove you're the Doctor?"

"Bigger on the inside pockets. My sonic and psychic paper are in them."

Shit. If this was the Doctor (wishful thinking), they would need to retrieve the jacket before John found it. The last thing they needed was for Rose's husband to discover the Time Lord's presence. "We'll you'll have to think of something else, because I lost it."

"You lost it?"

"Better that I not turn up at home wearing a stranger's jacket." Rose answered shortly. "Too bad. Think of something else."

"The first time I met you, you were in a basement, surrounded by shop window dummies. I grabbed your hand-"

John didn't seriously think Rose was that stupid, did he? "John's got all the Doctor's memories up until he was created. Think of something else."

"The first time on Bad Wolf Bay, our connection cut me off before I could finish speaking. The second time, you asked me how that sentence was going to end-"

"John remembers the first time. He was there the second time."

For the next hour the "Doctor" fired memory after memory of the times Rose and the Doctor shared in the TARDIS.

Rose was impressed by how thorough John had been with this one. He knows about every trip they had been on. If it wasn't for his ridiculous story about flying a mystical prison into the TARDIS as she exploded, she may have believed him. God knew she wanted to believe it was him.

"Please, Rose. It's me, I swear it is."

If only it was true. "That's what every one of your predecessors said."

Rose couldn't take it anymore. This was reawakening too many memories she preferred to keep buried. She turned to the door. She just needed a few minutes alone to pull herself together again. Then she would finish this.

"Wait!"

Rose paused at the threshold. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She couldn't let him see that she was cracking. She didn't bother turning around as she spoke. "I'm listening."

"Think back. New Year's Day, two thousand and five, just after midnight. You were walking with your mum. There was a man in the shadows. You though he'd had too much to drink. He said 'I bet you're going to have a really great year.' Remember him?"

Yes. Rose remembered. She had thought he was just another bloke who had had too much to drink. All the same, she spent the next few months clinging to his words, praying he was right. Then the Doctor swooped in. She didn't think of the man in the shadows much after that. That Christmas, after they defeated the Sycorax, sitting in her mum's flat, she mused that the man was right. Then the Doctor entered the flat. She instantly recognized him as her man in the shadows. She know enough about timelines to know better than to ask the Doctor about it, though. She never had found out why the Doctor crossed the timelines like that.

"Yeah. What's he got to do with anything?" asked Rose.

"That was me, Rose. And John won't remember it, because for me it was after I left you the second time. I'd had one hell of a year, wandering on my own. I was dying, and I had to see you one last time. Rose Tyler. My pink and yellow human." The man looked Rose straight in the eyes.

Rose's eyes met the man's, and all her doubts faded away. It was his eyes that gave it away. This man's eyes were bright green, but Rose knew these eyes. She had gazed into them a thousand times before, when they were ice blue and then warm brown. These were the eyes of the Doctor.

This man was the Doctor. Her Doctor. He came back.

"Oh my God. It's you. Doctor. It's really you." Rose felt a rush of emotions she had been so careful to lock away over the years. She couldn't stop staring at the man. The Doctor. After all this time, he was here. How was she supposed to feel? Angry? Sad? Happy? Relieved? Ashamed?

Rose hadn't realized how close in proximity she had come to the Doctor until she felt his fingers brush against her own.

"Yes Rose. It's really me." said the Doctor.

Rose looked down to see she had unconsciously twined her fingers together with the Doctor's. He had a whole new body, and yet their hands were still a perfect fit. They could run away together. They could travel the stars. It would be like the past decade had never happened . . .

Rose snatched her hand away. No. She was not going to do this. He couldn't help her, and if he stayed he would be in just as much danger as anyone else she had sent to the Preachers to be "deported." The best thing for everyone would be if the Doctor just left.

Rose gave herself a single moment to memorize the face of this new Doctor. Part of her was screaming in protest at what she was about to do, but the rest of her stayed strong. This was for the best, for everyone.

"You can't stay here." murmured Rose.

"What?" asked the Doctor.

She had to be louder this time. More convincing. "You can't stay here. John will find you. He'll capture you and just keep killing you until you run out of regenerations."

"I won't let him." said the Doctor.

"No, Doctor." Rose shook her head. "John rules the entire planet. No where on earth is safe for you. Not now, not ever. You've got to leave." "But I've just found you!" the Doctor cried in protest.

"No. I can't let you stay. You're too important. The other universe needs you. The Preachers will smuggle you to another star system. You can figure out how to get home from there."

"Not without you."

"You've got to."

"You could come with me. We could go home together."

God that was tempting. She so desperately wanted to give in. She could say yes. She should. "No. I'm needed here."

"Then let me stay."

She had to end this now, before she gave in. "No. It was wonderful to see you again, Doctor. Goodbye."

Rose turned and walked out of the room. She could barely believed what she had just done, but it was for the best. The Doctor couldn't stay, and she couldn't just run off with him. The Preachers needed her.

Rose felt moisture in her eyes. Angrily she wiped away the threatening tears. No. She was not going to cry. She had already shed more than enough tears for the Doctor. It was time to move on.

* * *

The Doctor wanted Rose to come back. He had managed to convince her that he really was the Time Lord she had once traveled with. But then she decided that he should just be shipped off-planet like she intended before she know he was the Doctor. He wanted her to come back. He needed to talk her into letting him stay. (He needed her.)

The Doctor was still tied to the damn chair. Rose hadn't untied him. He did his best to occupy his mind. Anything to fill the horrible emptiness in his head where the TARDIS had once been. His mind had never felt this empty, even after the Time War. He wondered what had happened to his Old Girl. She was probably still back in the other universe, alone and forgotten. Left to collect dust while waiting for a pilot that wouldn't ever return.

The Doctor heard footsteps coming down the hall. Someone entered his cell.

"Rose?" The Doctor did his best to not sound too hopeful. He looked up. It wasn't Rose.

"Sorry. Rose is busy at the moment." A man with a Welsh accent said. "Martha tells me you're the Doctor."

Ianto Jones stood just inside the cell, watching the Doctor with wary, calculating eyes.

"Yes. I am the Doctor." declared the Doctor. "Hello again, Ianto Jones. I'm still positive I met you before yesterday."

"Well I'm positive yesterday was the first time I've ever seen you in my life." Something rang false in Ianto's pleasant tone.

The Doctor studied Ianto closely. He looked like he was in his forties. His dull blue eyes spoke of pain and loss though, so the Doctor reckoned Ianto was younger. Suffering could add years to a person. Ianto was probably in his late thirties.

"I've been waiting to meet you for quite a while, Doctor." continued Ianto.

"Oh?" The Doctor didn't like the angry edge in Ianto's tone.

"Yes. Because Rose and Martha, and Jake too, when he was still alive. They all believed you're a hero. But you're not." Ianto paused, before continuing. "You're not a hero. Everyone in the Preachers knows your story, Doctor. The man who wanders the stars in his time machine. They only hear what they want to, though. They ignore that you stole the time machine, cast out by your own people. They ignore how you ended a war by killing both sides, including your _entire species._ And they don't even acknowledge that it's your fault the world is so fucked up because you created John Smith! Do you have any idea how many people have died because of you!?" Ianto was shouting by the end.

The Doctor winced. Ianto's rant was causing memories to awaken that were best left dormant.

The Doctor suspected that Ianto had a second reason for his angry words, though. He hoped he was wrong. He know he was right, though. So instead of deflecting Ianto's accusations like he normally would, he decided to go with the brutal honesty of reality. Hopefully Ianto would be too angry to attempt to dig deeper.

"Of course I do. I'm a Time Lord. I can see the timelines. I feel it every time a life is extinguished because of me, and each death is a new Hell for me." End with a question. It was more important to Ianto than the Doctor's confession. "Who have you lost, Ianto?"

Ianto was silent. He looked surprised. Then the surprise melted into grief.

"Her name was Lisa." Ianto answered softly. "We were married for nearly a decade before she was killed."

"I'm sorry." said the Doctor. He knew all too well the grief of losing someone that close.

"Sorry? Is that all you can say? She's dead because of you! And all you can say is 'sorry?' Sorry won't bring her back!" Ianto shouted. Then he froze. He looked shocked, as if he was just now realizing the truth of his own words.

Ianto turned to look at the Doctor.

"She's gone. Lisa. Oh God. _She's gone."_ Ianto's voice cracked at the end.

The Doctor could see Ianto was moments away from breaking down. He didn't know how long Lisa had been dead, but clearly it was only now dawning on Ianto that his wife was not coming back.

Ianto stumbled forward onto his knees.

Before the Doctor could react, the Welshman had broken down in tears before the Time Lord.

The Doctor just sat there. Give him as army of Daleks or a legion of Cyberman any day. He could handle that, easily. This, on the other hand, was more complicated. What the hell was he supposed to do when people were crying? Humans could be so complex, and so different. What helped on person could hurt another.

In Ianto's case, he had been grasping onto a desperate hope for quite a while now, to keep the sense of loss at bay. And now all the sorrow he held back was pouring out all at once. He probably needed to release his pent up grief.

So the Doctor just sat there, still tied to the chair. He was completely silent, and let Ianto cry, uninterrupted. He watched as tears streaked the Welshman's face.

Ianto kept crying.


	8. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm so sorry about the long wait. It took me over a month to write this chapter. Then I decided I hated it and I rewrote it. Anyway, a warning. There's a suicide attempt in this chapter.
> 
> And on that cheerful note, enjoy!
> 
> disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who.

_Something had changed. John could feel. it. He wasn't sure what it was, but there was something different between himself and Rose._

_John could feel it. He could feel it when he still felt cold inside as he laughed with Rose. Or when he laughed at her. He could feel it when Rose's smile never quite reached her eyes if he was around. She still graced everyone else with her real smile, especially Jake. He could feel it when Rose stared defiantly into his eyes every time she returned from a mission. Most of all he could feel it in the dead of night. Lying in bed with Rose beside him, mere inches away, yet it felt as if entire galaxies were between them._

_It had started after John had discovered Bad Wolf's lingering effects. Rose's lies, their fight, and John's brutal words had broken something between them._

_Forgive and forget. That was how it went, wasn't it? John and Rose had both forgiven. John hadn't forgotten, though. He couldn't. He didn't think Rose had forgotten either._

_John and Rose started fighting more frequently. Little disagreements that had once seemed insignificant before would escalate into heated arguments._

_John believed in them, though. He believed the love he shared with Rose was strong enough to fix the damage between them. Their love was good and strong. They were made to last. Even if the damage was never fixed, their love would be enough to keep them together. They would get through this._

_Days passed, though. Things between John and Rose did not get better. They disagreed more frequently. Well, they had always disagreed on stuff before, but now those disagreements were quicker to escalate into heated arguments. Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. Arguments turned into shouting matches. At work they avoided each other. Their flat acquired an icy, hostile atmosphere._

_The fights became more and more frequent. More often than not, their fights would end in tears and shouts, until they couldn't stand to be in each other's presence a second longer._

_On those nights, Rose would stay over at the Tyler Mansion. She turned to her family, Martha, and Jake for support. They comforted her and helped her stay in one piece._

_John had no one to turn to. Rose had been his whole world. Without her, he had nothing to hold himself together._

_With nowhere else to turn, John started drinking. Other humans did it. It had to help if people continued to do it, right? John started spending nights after arguments locked in his flat, drinking himself into oblivion in an effort to drown his sorrows._

_John couldn't understand why humans drank. The alcohol did nothing to alleviate his sorrow. The hangovers weren't worth it. Every time John woke with a hangover, he swore he would never so much as look at alcohol again._

_That only ever lasted until his next fight with Rose._

_Then one afternoon, Rose returned from a mission with a sprained ankle. She would be fine, but that wasn't the point. She had gotten hurt on a mission. Next time it might be worse than that. Just because she couldn't die didn't mean she shouldn't care. And what if it used up energy to come back to life? What if that energy ran out one day?_

_The fight that followed could be heard by the entire floor._

_John couldn't bring himself to return to the flat that night. He couldn't stand anything that reminded him of Rose._

_John retreated to his office with a bottle of whiskey he found in the archives._

_Tomorrow someone was going to get a stern talking to. John was pretty sure alcohol was banned from the tower except for research purposes._

_But that was tomorrow. Tonight, John was just grateful he had found it._

_Some time later, after John had drained the entire bottle, Leticia found him slumped in his office chair, only half conscious._

_Leticia didn't say a word. She simply plucked the empty bottle out of John's hands. They she coaxed him to the sofa, half dragging him._

_John woke the next morning with a throbbing head and no clue where he was. He blamed his brain's sluggishness on the hangover. Eventually he figured out that he was in his office._

_John sat up. He blinked as the sunlight poured in through the widows. It stabbed his eyes like a thousand razor-sharp knives._

_Why did he keep drinking? He was never going to even_ think _about alcohol again. He meant it this time._

_John caught sight of movement. Someone was in the office with him._

_John scanned the room, and found the source of the motion._

_Leticia was slumped in his office chair. She was only slightly disheveled, but it was the first time John had seen her as anything less than perfectly put together. She was stirring. A few moments later she was blinking the haze of sleep from her eyes. Once she was awake her gaze settled on John._

" _You're awake." said Leticia._

" _Yes." agreed John. "What are you doing here?"_

" _I found you here last night. You were alone. With this," Leticia gestured to the empty whiskey bottle. "In your hands. I didn't think you should be on your own."_

_John nodded. "Thank you, Leticia."_

" _You're welcome, sir." Leticia rose to stand and stretched for a moment. She started toward the door, then paused. She turned to face John again. "You know I'm here for you, sir. Not just for work. For anything. Anytime, anywhere."_

_Leticia exited the office before John could respond. It was just as well that he did. How was he supposed to respond to that?_

_John pondered Leticia's words for the rest of the day._

_John had another row with Rose again that day._

_That evening John was in his office. Once again he was trying to resist the temptation of spending the night drinking. His resolve was crumbling when Leticia entered his office, just as she always did before leaving for the night._

" _I'm about to head out." Leticia announced. "Is there anything you need me to do?"_

I'm here for you. _Leticia's words came to mind._

" _Stay." John heard himself say._

" _Sorry, what?" asked Leticia._

" _Just, stay. Please." John asked again._

_Leticia looked thoughtful for a moment. Then she nodded. "Alright."_

_For the first time in months, John was able to resist drinking himself into a coma._

* * *

Oh God. She was gone. Lisa was gone. She was dead. She wasn't coming back. Fuck the Doctor. It was his fault. Oh God. Ohgodohgod. She was gone.

Lisa had died while out on a mission for the Preachers. Later, Ianto had learned she was one of the elite few in on Rose's master plan for defeating John Smith. A plan he had only learned about because Rose felt Ianto deserved to know exactly how and why his wife had died.

When Ianto had first learned his wife was dead, he had locked himself in his flat. He spent a week crying before deciding to follow Lisa into death.

Ianto's hands had been shaking as he removed the gun from its hiding place (it was foolhardy for those involved with the Preachers to not have a back up weapon hidden away somewhere). It had taken three attempts to click off the safety, but Ianto had at last held the gun to his temple, and readied himself for the end.

As Ianto's finger had wrapped around the trigger, Lisa's face entered his mind. He was going to be with her soon.

But then he had realized Lisa wouldn't have wanted this. She loved him, but she wouldn't have wanted him to do this. She would have wanted him to carry on.

So that was just what Ianto had done. He picked up the pieces and put himself back together. He stayed with the Preachers, determined to do what he could for the cause Lisa had died fighting for. He found a kindred spirit in Martha Jones, Rose's fearless second. She had also lost her family because of John Smith. It took months, but he learned to move on, to survive Life Without Lisa.

At least he though he had moved on.

But now, as Ianto cried in a cell in front of Rose's Doctor, he realized he had been lying to himself. He had convinced himself that his grief had abated, but it had only been buried away, to be dealt with at a later time. And that time was now.

Time lost all meaning as Lisa's death reopened scars Ianto had believed to be closed.

Eventually, though, Ianto's tears subsided. His sobs ceased to wrack his body, and his tears dried.

Once Ianto stopped crying, he was able to think clearly again. In some ways, his head hadn't been this clear since Lisa's death.

Then he recalled where he was.

Naturally he was mortified.

He had just had a complete emotional breakdown in front of the Doctor. The time traveling hero from another universe. The man who saved this world from John Lumic's Cybermen over a decade ago. The man the Preachers hero worshiped. The man that – whether she realized it or not – Rose was still in love with.

Ianto looked at the Doctor. He was expecting to see the pity and sympathy people normally offered when they learned about Lisa. A part of him (a part that he didn't like to admit existed) hoped that he would see guilt as well.

Ianto didn't see any of that.

He saw empathy.

On God. The Doctor _understood._

Ianto should have seen it coming. He had heard the stories about the Doctor just as everyone in the Preachers had. The Time Lord was hundreds of years old. He traveled through time and space in his TARDIS. He saved lives and defended the earth (his earth, anyway), but at a cost. Sooner or later, his friends died or left him. And every once in a while, he was the one to leave.

"Of course I understand." said the Doctor. Ianto's train of though must have shown on his face (or the stories failed to cover the full extent of the Doctor's telepathic powers).

"Then why don't you help us?" asked Ianto bitterly.

"Rose doesn't want my help." answered the Doctor. "She has made that very clear. She's sending me away."

Ianto scowled.

What was Rose thinking? They finally had the Doctor. The on man who could save them all, and Rose was just going to toss him in one of their ships and send him away.

Ianto knew Rose had a plan. It would probably work, one day. But not everyone could wait. Lisa had died working on Rose's plan. Rose's plan would work, but it had already been over three years. For all he knew, it could be another decade before John Smith fell if they followed Rose's plan. Not everyone had that long left.

The Doctor had hurt Rose. She spent years trying to get back to him, and when she had finally succeeded, he had dumped her on a beach and left without so much as a goodbye. Ianto couldn't blame Rose for not wanting the Doctor around.

That didn't mean Rose was right. It wasn't fair of Rose to make the entire world continue to wait for liberation when the Doctor could probably take down John within a week. Everyone else was suffering too. People were enslaved. Loved ones died. Families were torn apart. And Rose was going to let it go on longer that it needed to.

But Ianto could change that. He knew he might get in trouble. He would be deliberately disobeying Rose's orders. But is was for the good of the earth. It could save thousands of lives.

Ianto made his choice. After all he had been through, Ianto was sure the universe owed him some form of compensation, and he was sure as hell going to get it.

He turned to the Doctor. He knew exactly what he needed to do.

"Rose is wrong." said Ianto.

"What?"

"Rose is wrong to send you away."

* * *

Martha was back at the Preachers' base. She was in the hall outside the holding cells. She anxiously paced outside the cell where the supposed Doctor was held.

Martha and Rose had come to the Preachers' base to question the latest man claiming to be the Doctor.

As always, Martha had offered to be there while Rose conducted the interrogation. Martha wasn't sure Rose could handle much more emotional stress. She wanted to be there just in case Rose couldn't get through the questioning.

As usual, Rose had declined.

Martha paced the hall outside the cell, while she waited for Rose to come back out. Time slowed to a tortuously slow pace. Every second seemed to crawl by. It almost felt as if it was crawling deliberately, to see how long it took to make Martha go mad.

Martha felt infinitely relieved when Rose emerged from the cell.

Rose's eyes were suspiciously moist, but her posture stayed strong. She wiped her eyes and scanned the hall until she saw Martha.

"It's him. It's the Doctor. Only then did Rose's facade collapse. She burst into tears. "Oh God. It's him, Martha. He's here. Why now? Why didn't he come back before?"

Martha hugged Rose, letting her friend shed her tears.

Once Rose's tears dried, Martha asked the question that consumed her mind every time they thought they might have the Doctor.

"So will he help us?' It was a legitimate concern. If he wanted to help, wouldn't he have come sooner?

"No."

"No?" Why wasn't the Doctor going to help? "Why not?"

"His universe needs him. He had to go back. We can't risk him not surviving to get back."

That's rubbish. He's defeated entire armies of hostile aliens. He can defeat a single man."

"He's not staying, Martha, and that's final!" Rose snapped. "I want him on the next ship out of here. Get him as far away from earth as possible."

Martha opened her mouth to protest.

"That's an order, Martha." Rose said coldly.

Rose spun on her heels and headed back down the hall to the transmat.

They left the base in silence. Once they were back in the chip shop, Rose stalked out of the place in silence. Martha was left alone in her office.

Martha hoped Rose knew what she was doing.

A few minutes later, Ianto entered Martha's office.

"Is it him?" asked Ianto.

Martha looked up at Ianto. She could see the tiny spark of hope flickering in his eyes. Every time he asked that question, the spark was just a little dimmer.

"Yeah, it's him. It's really him." answered Martha.

"Can I . . ?" Ianto trailed off, eyes darting to the closet.

Martha debated whether she should really let Ianto go or not. There was no real reason to stop him. Ianto blamed the Doctor for Lisa's death. Confronting the Doctor might finally give Ianto some closure. But Ianto's emotions were a mess. Meeting the Doctor could wind up hurting him further.

In the end, Martha made up her mind. Ianto was an adult. Though emotionally fragile, the last thing he needed was to be molly coddled. This was what he wanted.

"Yeah. Go on." Martha nodded to the closet.

"Thank you." Ianto turned to the closet.

"Oh, Ianto. You need to know, he's not staying on earth."

Ianto froze. "He's not? Why?"

"Rose is having hem leave on the next ship."

Ianto stood frozen a moment longer before wordlessly entering the closet. Once he was in the hidden life, Martha closed the closet door and locked it.

Then she waited.

Waiting for Ianto to return was nerve wracking. In some ways it was worse than waiting for Rose.

Time dragged by. Martha remained hunched over her desk. She stared blankly at the paperwork she was supposed to be working on. She was going to be stiff when she finally moved. She had barely moved at all since Ianto left.

Every few minutes, Martha glanced at the closet door.

If Ianto didn't return soon, the staff would notice. And what if someone else meant to be deported slowed up? They really needed to find someone who could substitute for Ianto.

Hours later (in reality it was closer to just a single hour), Martha finally heard a soft knock from the closet.

Martha bolted out of her chair. Her back instantly protested, but she ignored it.

Martha didn't call out his name (one never knew who could be watching) as she reached the door.

It took he a couple tried before she unlocked the closet, but at last she was flinging the door open. Finally, she was standing face to face with Ianto once again.

Martha couldn't place her finger on what is was, but Ianto seemed . . . different.

"Ianto? Martha asked tentatively. "Are you alright?"

Ianto's features morphed into something more familiar to Martha. It was similar to the expression he wore most of the time in the early days after Lisa died. Fragile, but determined.

"No." Ianto answered. "But I will be."

"Alright. Don't forget, if you need me, I'm here for you."

Something odd flickered across Ianto's face. It was gone so quickly though. Martha decided she must have imagined it.

"I won't." responded Ianto. "Thank you, Martha."

Ianto turned to the office door and left to serve coffee to the patrons of the chip shop.

Martha closed the closet door and then sat back in he office chair, deep in thought.

Whatever had happened between Ianto and the Doctor, It had reopened old wounds for Ianto. But he was no worse than before. Given time, he would heal. Martha planned to do all she could to help Ianto.

Martha briefly entertained the idea of going back to the Preachers' base to warn the Doctor to stay away from Ianto in the future.

Martha dismissed the thought. She had been absent from her office enough for one day. Besides, soon the Doctor would be galaxies away. Ianto and the Doctor would probably never meet again.

Martha had never been close to Ianto until after Lisa died. Otherwise she would have known that Ianto could be one hell of an actor when it suited him (for instance, when John's men arrested and interrogated the Welshman). It was just one of those things that hadn't come up in the three years that their friendship had really blossomed.

Ianto's hidden acting talents were going to be something Martha discovered very soon.


	9. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! I'm so dreadfully sorry about the long wait. This chapter took forever to write. It just didn't want to be written, but better late than never.
> 
> So, some Christmas present we're getting. Matt Smith is being taken away from us. I'm sure Capaldi will be a good Doctor, but I'm going to be too busy crying that Matt Smith is gone.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!
> 
> disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who.

_John and Rose were falling apart. They both knew it, but neither had the strength nor the will to let go. So they went on, desperately clinging to each other, even as the chasm between them threatened to swallow them whole._

_For John, the worst part was that he still loved Rose. He loved her desperately. He would do anything for her. To know that what he shared with her was disintegrating before his eyes was killing him._

_Some nights Leticia was the only reason he was still alive._

_If John believed Martha's sister to be a blessing on his life before, she was a godsend now. When he and Rose fought, Rose had her family, Jake, and Martha to turn to. John had no one. Except for Leticia._

_John wasn't sure what had changed between him and Leticia, but the change was there. She was no longer just his (exceptional) personal assistant, she was also his friend. Since that night she found him drowning his sorrows, she had been there for him. She was the stability his life otherwise lacked. With her support, he had managed to stop drinking._

_Free of the shadow his drinking had cast on his life, John found the world not quite as bleak as it had once seemed. He even managed to have a few good days – and nights – with Rose every now and then. Those times were rare, but he treasured them. The moments where they were almost back to how they used to be, at ease with each other, and in love. Once or twice they even sought out each other physically, in need of the contact to reassure themselves that the other was still there._

_Despite the constant shifting in John's personal life, the rest of the world carried on as before. Torchwood continued to deal with aliens. They saved the world from hostile aliens, and Britain flourished on new trade agreements and peace treaties with their interstellar neighbors. The media continued to stalk John. He and Rose were careful to hide their evolving relationship from the press._

_With no social life beyond Leticia to speak of – except for his strained relationship with the Tylers – John threw himself into his work. He needed something to focus on besides his broken marriage. With work, at least he knew he was doing some good._

_Pete must have noticed John's extra effort as well. One day, the director of Torchwood called his second into his office. Pete confided in John that he was ready to step down as director, and planned to retire in the near future. Furthermore, because of the extensive knowledge of aliens John had inherited from the Doctor, Pete felt that John was best equipped to succeed him as director of Torchwood._

_John was disappointed his promotion was primarily due to his knowledge of the extraterrestrial that he had inherited from the Doctor. Had he not proved himself worthy? He was a dedicated employee. He was trustworthy. He had a life of his own, had had victories he had earned as himself, made mistakes that were his own. Yet still he lived in the shadow of the Doctor._

_John wasn't sure if it was right for him to accept Pete's offer. Pete wanted the Doctor, and in his eyes, John was the Doctor. John knew better, though. He remembered what it was like to be the Doctor. While he shared many similarities with the Time Lord, John knew that he was a different man._

_But as the Doctor, John would be able to force Rose to stop going out in the field. Rose would resent him. She might never forgive him, but John knew his marriage was doomed anyway. At least John would have the peace of knowing Rose was safe. That was really all that mattered in the end. Rose's safety._

_Despite his conflicting interests, the decision had been easy to make. As soon as he saw Rose return from a mission sporting an array of rather nasty cuts, John knew what he would decide._

_Two months before the first anniversary of his wedding, John Smith became director of Torchwood._

* * *

The past month had been hell for Rose.

The Doctor had come back. He had _come back._

Over the past decade, Rose had fantasized what it would be like if the Doctor returned. A thousand times she had imagined him flying in and saving the world from John. Then he would whisk her away in the TARDIS. She still heard the TARDIS in her dreams.

Never had she believed it would happen, though. The Doctor left her. Why would he come back?

And yet, he had. The Doctor had come back. He had once again returned to this universe, with no TARDIS and a new face.

After proving he was the Doctor, Rose had mourned the loss of her skinny, pinstriped, babbling Doctor. He had been her Doctor just as much as the man with big ears and a northern accent, and now he was gone too. She would miss him.

Considering that John had the same face, though, Rose thought it might be better that the Doctor had regenerated. She wasn't sure she would have been able to handle it if the Doctor still wore the face of her personal tormentor of the past decade.

Not that any of that mattered now. The Doctor was gone. Rose had sent him off planet. With no TARDIS, no sonic, no allies, and no knowledge of this world, he wouldn't be able to hide. John would easily track down the Time Lord. Rose had already spent years devising a plan that would eventually free the earth of John Smith. It was better for everyone that the Doctor was gone.

The only thing left was to erase any evidence that the Doctor was ever there. Considering he stood on the planet less than a day, it should have been easy.

But his jacket, which he had so graciously offered to Rose when he saw her suffering, was a problem. Rose had abandoned it in an alley before John's men found her. It was never pleasant when John found her in other people's clothes, especially when they were men's clothes. Its pockets and contents would reveal its owner.

If John found it, he would know the Doctor had been on earth. He would track down the Doctor and kill him until the Time Lord ran out of regenerations.

Rose couldn't let that happen. For the past month, the main focus of the Preachers had been to locate and dispose of the Doctor's possessions. Rose was driving herself mad trying to beat John to them. John ran regular scans for unregistered alien tech. By now he must know that _something_ was there.

This morning, Rose woke alone in the bed she shared with John. After chiding herself for falling asleep so exposed, she got dressed and made her way to the kitchen.

Back when her Mum, Dad, and Tony lived in the Tyler Mansion, it had been full of life. Her dad had tried his best to work from home when he could. Her mum was always entertaining someone, her own friends, her husband's friends, and Rose's friends. Rose had often had Jake, and later Martha, over. Tony had hero-worshiped them, the Torchwood heroes. Once he was old enough, Tony had started bringing his friends from school over as well.

These days the mansion seemed too big. It was cold and empty. It was a shell compared to what it once was. Though it was still an impressive sight, it felt hollow and lifeless.

Rose entered the kitchen, deep in thought. She needed to visit the Preachers' base today. She did her best to stay updated on the search for the Doctor's possessions. It would be nice to see Martha. She knew Martha was restless, locked in that office playing her part.

"Good morning, Rose."

Rose inwardly cursed as the voice she least wanted to hear greeted her.

"Morning John." Rose returned stiffly.

"You alright, love?" John asked. "You don't look very pleased to see me. Well, when I say very pleased I mean not pleased at all. Disappointed, in fact. You're disappointed to see me, Rose."

Rose flinched. The term of endearment no longer applied to them. Also, while John differed from the Doctor in many ways, he had retained many of the Time Lord's quirks and mannerisms, including the mile-a-minute speech. Rose found it disconcerting that such a cruel man could behave so much like the man she loved.

Rose remained silent. After a moment, John switched tactics.

"I made us breakfast. Hope you're hungry."

"Why would you do that?" asked Rose. John didn't do things like that. Not anymore. Something must be wrong.

"That's what married couples _do,_ Rose. They eat proper breakfasts together. We don't do that much anymore." John paused. "We should, though."

Rose felt dread at the suggestion. To do something s domestic as eat with John felt wrong. It had been years since she'd wanted to spend time with him.

"What do you want, John?" asked Rose. May as well cut to the chase.

All pretense of the caring husband vanished, revealing the cold man who had conquered the planet.

"Torchwood detected unregistered alien technology a few weeks ago." began John. He stared intensely at Rose as he spoke.

Rose kept her face carefully neutral. It would do no good to let John see that she was panicking. It might not even be the Doctor's things that were found.

"Took a while to find it." John continued. "There were teams searching all over London. In the end we found it, though."

"Why are you tellin' me this?" Rose did her best to keep her voice even as she spoke.

"I thought it would be of interest to you." John answered. He stepped forward, invading Rose's personal space. "You see, Rose, it was a jacket. A tweed jacket. Not alien at first glance, but maybe there was a piece of alien tech in the pockets. Except it wasn't _in_ the pockets, it _was_ the pockets. They were bigger on the inside. And inside . . ." John reached inside his jacket.

Rose felt dread clawing at her heart. She desperately hoped it wouldn't be what she was expecting, though she knew she was right.

John pulled out a cylinder. A metal claw held a green jewel in place. "It's a bit flashy, and much bulkier than mine. Still doesn't work on wood – I'm working on that – but it has got a psychic interface."

Rose remained silent as her eyes absorbed the new sonic. She couldn't let John know anything.

John's face darkened. Words echoed in Rose's mind. _The Oncoming Storm._

"Where is he?" asked John. He voice was dangerously low.

"What d'you mean?" asked Rose. She knew it was over, though.

"You know exactly what I mean." John hissed. "Tell me, Rose. Where's the Doctor?"

This was it. Game over. "I don't know."

"Yes you do."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do. I know you, Rose. I can see it in your eyes. You've seen him." John was close now. Their faces were mere inches apart. Rose could feel his breath on her face. Once it would have exhilarated her, but now all she felt was disgust. "Where is he?"

"Fine, I did see him, but it was a month ago. Told him to get as far away as he could." It was mostly true. Rose didn't want to reveal the Preachers' off-world smuggling if she could help it. "Dunno where he is now."

John took a step back.

Rose let out a breath of relief. Being in such close proximity to John was setting her nerves on edge.

John's eyes scanned Rose, analyzing her body from head to toe. He was no doubt looking for her body language to betray her, to reveal she was lying.

Rose, however, had mastered the art of controlling her body language years ago. She'd had little choice in the matter.

"You honestly don't know?" asked John. He looked perplexed, but at least he was buying it.

"No." Rose answered firmly. Technically, it was true. The Doctor could be across the galaxy by now. There were a thousand different planets he could be on right now.

"Alright." John nodded thoughtfully. "I'll believe you. For now. But when you see him again – and I know him well enough to know there _will_ be an again – you tell me _immediately._ Otherwise I'll have to force it out of you. Are we clear?"

Rose wanted nothing more than to scream her victory. The Doctor was no longer on the planet. He was never going to be caught by John. Instead, she swallowed hard and answered John. "Yes."

"He left you Rose. I just don't want you to get hurt." John said softly. Then he brightened, then. It hurt to watch him switch moods so easily, as the Doctor once had. "So! Breakfast! I'll have to reheat it. It'll probably have gotten cold by now."

John seized Rose's hand and dragged her to the kitchen table.

It sickened Rose to dine with the man that had been threatening her moments before. She could have fought if she wanted to. John would not have been pleased, but he would have let her go. It would catch up to her, though, either tonight in bed, or tomorrow with a thousand hidden cameras trained on her. That was the last thing she needed.

Rose and John ate in stony silence. It was the most miserable meal she had partaken of in a long time.

Rose allowed her mind to wander as she ate.

She would have to get in touch with the Preachers at some point. She had to call off the search. John had beaten her.

Where was the Doctor now? Was he wandering one of the thousands of planets in this galaxy, or was he going further? How was he faring? Without the psychic paper and sonic, how was he earning his keel? Did he have a real job somewhere? A flat of his own? Or maybe he was working on a starship. He could be a pilot, or any other position he wanted. Maybe he had already figured out how to go home.

Rose pushed away thoughts of the Doctor. She would just have to resign herself to never knowing. Chances were they were never going to meet again.

Rose's eyes were drawn to John jacket, where the sonic now resided. She was going to have to steal the Doctor's sonic from John.

* * *

Martha was worried about Ianto. Over the past month, her friend had become distant and distracted. He rarely spoke to her anymore, and when he did, Martha could tell his mind was elsewhere. Her attempts to learn what lay so heavy in his mind had proved futile. He dodged her questions or simply refused to answer.

Martha knew the Doctor was responsible for the change in Ianto's behavior. The change had happened as soon as Ianto returned from speaking to the Time Lord. Martha didn't know what the time traveler had said or done, but it had left a lasting impact on the Welshman.

Martha entered the shop's tiny kitchen in hope of catching Ianto before he left. That was another change. Before, Ianto would often stay late, reluctant to return to his empty flat. Now it was as if he couldn't get away from the shop fast enough.

"Is Ianto still here?" Martha asked one of the waitresses.

"Sorry, no." the girl answered. "He just left."

Martha had missed him again. It had now been at least four days since she and Ianto had had a proper chat. Why was he avoiding her?

"Not that I blame him. If John Williams were my flatmate, I'd have been home an hour ago." The girl continued.

Martha replayed what the girl had just said, not quite sure which part to question first. "Who's John Williams?" Hadn't John Williams been a pop star from when she was a kid?

"Ianto's new 'flatmate.' He's very handsome." the girl explained. "Bit young for Ianto, though. He can't be more than twenty-five."

Right. Well . . . On to the next question. "Ianto's got a flatmate?" Ianto had gotten a flatmate and he hadn't told her?

"Yeah. For about a month now."

"What makes you think that Ianto and this Williams bloke are . . ." Martha trailed off. The idea of Ianto with anyone at all baffled her, least of all a younger man. Ianto hadn't shown interest in anyone since Lisa, and as far as Martha knew, Ianto had only ever had eyes for woman. Not to mention Martha had always thought Ianto would want someone more mature.

"It's obvious. Ianto never stays late anymore. He's always so eager to leave. To go home. And John hasn't got a proper job. Ianto's paying John's share of the rent."

"How do you know if he's got a job or not?" Was this girl stalking Ianto?

"He told me so. I live in the same building. He fixed my telly a few weeks ago."

"Right. Well, thanks." Martha retreated to her office, so she could process this new information in private.

What had the Doctor said? Had he somehow convinced Ianto to move on? But that was still fast to suddenly have a new flatmate. Though it was possible Ianto was helping to keep this John Williams bloke from drowning in debt and being forced into John Smith's service. Or maybe the girl was right, and Ianto was in a relationship with Mr. Williams.

But it didn't make sense. Whether it was as a charity or for more personal reasons, why was Ianto keeping his new flatmate a secret from Martha? Didn't he trust her? Martha had through so, but she could have been wrong.

Well, there was really only one way to find out. Martha would just have to visit Ianto's flat and meet John Williams herself.


	10. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! I'm back! I'm terribly sorry it took so long. Thanks for all the continued feedback.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who.

_Today had not been a good day. It had been a bad day. A very bad day._

_It hadn't been one of those miserable bad days where everything went wrong. Those days were bad, but once over and done with, things were so bad they couldn't get any worse. From there, things could only get better. It was the kind of day that ended in a sigh of relief, because it was over and tomorrow would be better. But it hadn't been that kind of bad day._

_No, today had been the other kind of bad day. It had been one of those stressful bad days that were decisive in how many more bad days were to come. It had been the kind of day that – if not handled properly – would end in misery, regret, and a looming sense of dread of the days to follow._

_John had been director of Torchwood for two months now. They had flown by in a haze of paperwork, meetings, and caffeine-fueled late nights spent working. The sheer amount of_ work _involved in being director had taken John by surprise. How Pete had managed to keep up, and have time to be a father and husband as well, John would never know. John had only had dinner at his flat a handful of times since becoming director._

_Though some nights John had chosen to stay late, reluctant to return to the flat, knowing Rose would be there. The few meals he had shared at home with Rose had been frigid, miserable affairs. The strain on their fractured relationship had increased when John barred Rose from the field nearly a month and a half ago. She couldn't see he was only doing what he had to for her own protection. Every time he saw Rose, he could see her love for him fading from her eyes. It killed him, watching their love die. So he stayed away, as if by doing so he could preserve what little they still had._

_Tomorrow would be John and Rose's first anniversary. This was a far cry from how John had imagined their first anniversary going when he and Rose exchanged vows merely a year ago. He was drowning in work and barely on speaking terms with his wife. He didn't even have any plans with Rose to commemorate the occasion._

_But for once, John's shattered marriage was not the source of his problems._

_The reason that today had been so awful was because of the alien John was currently sharing dinner with. It was a Sycorax. Not Just any Sycorax, either. It was their ambassador._

_Because of the Doctor and Rose's encounter with the warrior race on their first Christmas together, John had been wary the first time the Sycorax made contact with this earth. John, Rose, and Jackie had pushed Pete to sign a peace treaty with the would-be invaders._

_It was the only time John and Jackie had ever truly agreed on anything._

_From the moment John had entered existence, Jackie had hated him. She had been right in the end, and John hated her for it. She knew her daughter had only loved John because when Rose looked at him, she saw the Doctor. And now that Rose was seeing that he wasn't the Doctor . . ._

_Anyway, Pete had worked with the leaders of the earth and the Sycorax to work out a peace treaty, and he had been successful. The Sycorax had signed the treaty and left earth in peace._

_But apparently the Sycorax only honored treaties as long as all the original members involved in the treaty maintained their positions. John supposed it worked just fine for them. Their entire race lived under one government, and once appointed, leaders held their positions for life. It wasn't going to work for the earth, though. Not with new leaders being elected all the time._

_After John replaced Pete, it had taken a lot of persuading to convince the Sycorax to give John a chance before declaring the peace treaty invalid._

_So today had been it. John's chance. His chance to get the Sycorax to continue to honor the treaty while he figured out a permanent solution._

_So John had done his best to impress the Sycorax, to prove he was a capable leader and a worthy ally. He spent the morning telling the ambassador about his plans for Torchwood's future – how he planned to handle Torchwood's increased role in Britain's politics, firmly establish earth's place in the galactic community, and arm the earth against invasion._

_The ambassador had just listened silently, with a faint aura of disdain._

_Around noon, John had switched tactics. He gave up on trying to impress the ambassador. He spent the afternoon trying to prove that humans were more useful as allies than slaves. He took the ambassador to that chip shop Pete had opened a few years ago. He gave the ambassador a tour of London, showing off London's favorite tourist destinations and several museums._

_Now, John watched the Sycorax ambassador as they silently dined together in a posh Italian restaurant. Had he done it? Was the peace treaty going to continue? Once finished, the ambassador left without a word._

_As he paid for the meal, John contemplated what he would do next. He had more work than he cared to think about waiting for him back at Torchwood. He really should go back and try to get more done. He could talk to Leticia, tell her about his fears. For some reason, he always felt better after confiding in her. Or he could go back to his flat. He was tired. He just wanted to fall asleep and forget his problems for just a little while. Though he didn't think he could relax if Rose was there. After today, he couldn't deal with her too._

_John decided to stop by the flat. It was closer anyway. If Rose was out, he would stay and try to get a decent night's sleep. If Rose was there, he would go to the Tower and work until he passed out in his chair._

_When John got to the flat, he found a note taped to the front door in Rose's handwriting._

_GONE OUT. MIGHT NOT MAKE IN BACK TONIGHT. ROSE_

_John breathed a sigh of relief. He wouldn't have to face Rose tonight She was out, probably with Jake (he ignored the twinge of jealousy at the thought) and Martha. He could stay and try to get some sleep. Hopefully in would ease his anxiety. It didn't._

_John arrived at Torchwood the next morning to discover Rose had not been out with Jake and Martha. She had been with the Sycorax ambassador. She had worn a smug smile as she told John that she and the ambassador had come up with a way to permanently maintain the peace treaty. All John had to do was agree to the ambassador's simple request._

_John had been too relieved to feel annoyed or frustrated with Rose for going behind his back to conduct negotiations of her own._

_That is, until he heard the ambassador's request. Apparently, the Sycorax had grown used to dealing with governments like earth's, with new leaders being elected all the time. Their solution was simple. The Sycorax kept a permanent representative for each of their allies. All John had to do was give the ambassador a person to represent earth. That person would accompany the ambassador off-planet and live with the Sycorax. John would have agreed in a heartbeat, if it hadn't been for one significant detail._

" _No." John bluntly refused. "Pick someone else."_

" _I've already decided." the ambassador said. "Rose will come with me, or we'll end the treaty."_

" _No." There was no way he was going to let Rose be taken away from him._

" _She will come."_

" _No."_

" _Yes. Rose-"_

" _I said_ no. _" John practically snarled. "You will not take Rose. If you do we will take it as an act of war." John knew he should stop. He wasn't in a position to declare wars on behalf of the earth. He couldn't stop, though. Not with this alien bastard trying to steal Rose. "I will burn up galaxies if you try to take her."_

" _You would choose to save a single female over protecting your people from a war they could never win?" asked the ambassador. He sounded faintly amused, but there was a threat veiled be the words._

" _I would." Of course he would. John would always choose Rose. Every time._

_There was more arguing after that. John refused to let Rose go. The ambassador refused to accept anyone but Rose as the earth's representative. In the end, the ambassador stormed out, declaring the treaty was over._

" _You will regret this, John Smith." were the alien's parting words._

_John ignored the words. As long as Rose was within reach, he would regret nothing._

* * *

Ianto entered his flat after work with his back turned to the interior. He closed the front door and just stood there for a moment, facing the door. He needed just a few moments to himself. A month ago he hated coming back to the empty flat. Now he missed the solitude.

Ianto finally made himself turn around. He observed his flat despondently. Much had changed over the past month, and his flat had suffered for it. Once – it seemed like a lifetime ago – his flat had been clean. Pristine. Now the place was a mess.

Amidst the chaos, the origin of the mess sat on the couch, focused with laser-like intensity on a sheet of paper he was bending and twisting. He wore a t-shirt and jeans, more normal than when Ianto first met him. The bowtie, however, was still there, draped around his neck, untied.

The floor in front of the couch was buried under a pile of crumpled paper.

"I'm back!" Ianto declared unnecessarily as he stooped to pick up one of the papers. It was a vaguely round shape with handle attached. It took a few seconds for Ianto to realize that the paper was a miniature replica of a cyberman head. Once he knew what it was, though, Ianto thought it was a very good replica.

Ianto picked up another paper. This one was a rectangular box with a knob at one end. He didn't recognize what it was, but the attention to detail was admirable.

A third paper was a castle. There were also various animals and shapes. And that Australian opera house that had been destroyed in the war with the Sycorax.

Ianto dropped the papers back on the floor and looked up at the Doctor. The Time Lord had finished his latest creation and was now holding in up to admire.

Ianto thought it was impressive. Every fold and twist was precise. It looked exactly like the real thing. Yet another monument lost in the war with the Sycorax. The Eiffel Tower.

Ianto did have one question, though. "Where-?"

"Tokyo, twenty-sixth century. The fifth extraterrestrial Japanese colony. It only lasted five hundred years. Never did find out what happened. They were famous through out the Andromeda galaxy for their origami. I had to improvise for him, though." The Doctor gestured to the cyberman head on the floor.

"I was going to ask where we're going to put all of these, but I'd love to hear the rest of that story, later." Ianto had discovered early on that he could keep the Doctor occupied by listening to tales of the alien's previous adventures. They were completely mad, but at least it kept the Doctor from destroying the flat more than he already had.

"Naw. It's rather boring. I was just trying to pass the time while Donna was shopping. I thought I'd tell you about the time Rose and I visited Cardiff . . ."

Half and hour later Ianto sat at the kitchen table, half-listening to the Doctor's tale while eating dinner. It was just as bizarre as all the Doctor's other stories. The Doctor, Rose, Rose's boyfriend, and Jack Harkness had saved the earth from being destroyed by the mayor of Cardiff, who was a alien fugitive. It was completely mental.

Ianto found it hard to believe that the Rose in the Doctor's stories was the same Rose Ianto knew. The Rose in the Doctor's tales was a bright, care-free, compassionate young girl. The Rose Ianto knew, on the other hand, was a battle-hardened soldier.

Ianto also found it hard to believe that an alternate version of himself had taken the flirtatious, charismatic Captain Jack Harkness as a lover. Ianto couldn't believe he would want a male lover at all. Yet according to the Doctor, the Ianto Jones and Captain Jack Harkness of the Doctor's universe had been lovers until Ianto died. That was also strange, knowing in another universe, he was dead. He hadn't made it to thirty.

That had been an unsettling evening. Listening as the Doctor told the life story of a dead man. Knowing that in some strange way, he was that dead man. It hadn't helped that the Doctor had told that story with a childish sort of enthusiasm (apparently, it had been eating away at the Doctor that he hadn't been able to recognize Ianto sooner).

Ianto listened to the Doctor talk about Jack Harkness. What kind of man was this Harkness bloke? What about this man could have been so appealing he had captured the other Ianto's eye?

 _Knock! Knock!_ The knock on the door interrupted Ianto's train of thought, as well as the Doctor's story.

"Shit!" Ianto shot out of his chair. Had John Smith's men come for the Doctor? He had been careful to keep both the Doctor and himself under Smith's radar. The Doctor hadn't left the building since he arrived. Ianto had known it would only be a matter of time, though. Had it been one of the neighbors? The Doctor had done a few odd repair jobs for the building's residents. Broken telleys, malfunctioning toasters, faulty lamps, that sort of thing. It had been more to occupy the Doctor than earn extra money. Had the Doctor "upgraded" something?

Ianto seized the Doctor's hand and dragged him out of the chair. He shoved the Time Lord into the flat's only bedroom (the Doctor didn't sleep as much or as often as humans, so sleeping arrangements hadn't been a problem).

"Hide in the closet." Ianto hissed in the Doctor's ear. They he gave the Time Lord a shove and shut the door. He prayed that the Doctor would do as he was told.

Ianto dashed back through the flat to the front door.

Ianto swung the door open, fully prepared to deal with the thugs John Smith had sent –

– and came face to face with Martha.

* * *

Martha knocked impatiently on Ianto's door. She could hear the dull thud of footsteps from inside. Ianto was obviously here. Why was he taking so long?

Martha kept knocking. She wasn't going to leave until she saw Ianto. Something was up with him, and she was determined to find out what it was. Before long her knuckles started to go numb form being repeatedly pounded into the door.

After a minute or so, the lock finally clicked. A second later the door swung open. Ianto's expression morphed from wary to surprised the moment he saw Martha.

Ianto just stared at her before recovering from his shock enough to say, "Hello Martha. What are you doing here?"

"What am _I_ doing here?" Martha laughed incredulously. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here." Ianto said with a roll of his eyes.

The motion was so familiar Martha wondered for a second why she had thought anything was more wrong than usual. But no, normally Ianto would still be at work at this time.

"No you don't." Martha said. "You crash here at the end of the day. You sleep here. You live at work, except for the past month you haven't. And _god_ it's cold out here." Martha pushed past Ianto and entered the flat despite his protests. "What the hell . . . ?"

Martha could count the number of times she had been to Ianto's flat with the fingers on just one of her hands. That flat had always looked the same. Pristine, sterile, lifeless. Always.

But not this time. Now it looked like a tornado had blown through. The place was full of clutter. There was a mountain of paper by the couch. Post-it notes were stuck to everything that ran on electricity, discouraging anyone from dismantling the objects they were protecting. Dirty dishes sat by the sink, left to be washed at a later date. Books were scattered across the kitchen table. A few had been pushed aside to accommodate dinner dishes for two –

For _two?_ So that girl had been telling the truth. Ianto did have a new flatmate. Ianto never brought anyone to his empty, lonely flat.

But it wasn't empty anymore, Martha mused as she cast a glance at the mess. She looked at the table again. It was no longer lonely here, either.

Martha spun around to face Ianto.

"What's going on with you, Ianto?" asked Martha. "You've been acting strange ever since the D – since _he_ was here. You've been avoiding me, you're flat's a mess, and you've got a new flatemate," Martha waved her hand toward the messy table set for two. "That for some reason you don't want me to know about – "

"Who told you that?" Ianto cut in.

"What? That you've got a new flatemate? It was one of the girls. She said you're new flatmate was a handsome young bloke. She thinks you two are shagging."

"What – ? Why – ? I – " Ianto spluttered indignantly. His face was flushed.

"Oh my god! It's true?" Martha didn't care who Ianto liked, but she had never realized he like blokes. Though to be fair, he hadn't shown much interest in anyone at all since Lisa.

"Ianto? Isn't that Martha? I don't need to hide from her, do I?" asked a young male voice.

Ianto shot a panicked look behind Martha. She turned around to see a young man – practically a teenager – poking his head out the bedroom door. He was wearing loose jeans and a worn out t-shirt. He had messy brown hair that flopped over his forehead. He also had a strip of bright red cloth draped around his neck. He seemed a bit disheveled.

For one absurd, confusing moment, Martha wondered if Ianto was keeping the man prisoner so he couldn't tell anyone that the two men were shagging.

Then Martha recognized the man, and everything made much more sense. Ianto wasn't keeping the man prisoner, nor was he shagging the other man (at least Martha hoped so. Rose didn't need more emotional turmoil right now).

"Martha Jones! Hello again!" exclaimed the man.

Martha stared at the man incredulously. What the hell had Ianto been thinking?

"Doctor?" asked Martha.


	11. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'm back! Finally, another chapter. I had over two-thirds of this done when I posted the last chapter, but life got it the way. I've got a few original works that I've been focused on lately, so this just kind of fell off to the side.
> 
> So, just as a warning, John kills someone in a moment of insanity. Also, there's a brief mention of dub-con.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who.

_John was doing his bloody best to ignore the young man who was giving the day's report. A German village had been attacked, thirteen dead, eighteen missing. America was building a space fighter. China was producing nuclear weapons. Earth was at war. John didn't need to hear the details. They just added to the weight on his shoulders that made him feel like he was going to suffocate._

_It had been six months since the Sycorax ambassador's visit to earth. Six months since John had chosen Rose over the earth. Six months since the UN was razed to the ground. Six months since the world went to hell._

_The week after John sent away the Sycorax ambassador had been nerve-wracking. John had barely slept. Without Leticia there forcing him to eat and take the occasional nap, he thought he might have gone mad, waiting to see what the Sycorax would do._

_John got his answer at the end of that hellish week when the Sycorax dropped a bomb on the headquarters of the United Nations._

_John hadn't meant to take charge. He never cared much for power. The power he'd had back then had nearly been too much as it was. But everyone else had been panicking, and the world had been on the brink of unraveling. John had done the only thing he could do. He'd stepped up and taken the lead. It had been his fault this had happened. It was his responsibility to fix it._

_Now, six months later, John practically ruled the earth alone. The humans of this universe had never been involved in war on this scale before, but John had – well, he remembered it, anyway. The world had turned to John. No, they had turned to the Doctor, but John had been the closest they could get._

_John had taught the world to defend itself. He kept the Sycorax at bay, stopped the warrior race from crushing the world. He knew they couldn't win, though. They had too few resources, and too little experience. Sooner or later, the aliens would grind down their defenses. One day, earth would be too tired to fight back._

_John had a plan, of course. A very Doctor-ish plan, with extremely low odds of success and no escape but to run should it fail. It was exactly the kind of plan the Doctor would have come up with. Except for the killing part, of course._

_John's plan was simple. He would use the new TARDIS he was growing to sneak into where the Sycorax leaders were. Then he would assassinate them all. Simple._

_John didn't want to resort to killing, but he had no choice. This universe's Torchwood didn't have the memory-erasing retcon that Jack's Torchwood had. John suspected Jack's Torchwood only retcon because of Jack's Time Agency knowledge. John had no clue where he would find the Jack Harkness of this universe, or even if he existed. So John was going to assassinate all the leaders of the Sycorax._

_Besides being immoral, there was only one real flaw in the plan. The new TARDIS wasn't ready. Thanks to Donna, the new TARDIS was growing extraordinarily faster than in would naturally take. But at the normal rate, it took hundreds of years before a TARDIS was even capable of traveling. The growth process could only be accelerated so much. It took time. John would have to wait at least another year before he could put his plan into action._

_But in the mean time, the people John had been burdened with the privilege to lead were being slaughtered._

_John tried to figure out how to win this war, but his desperate, mad, assassination plan seemed to be the only chance at victory._

_The young man continued the report. There was a small town in Brazil that had also been attacked today. Unlike the German village, there had been no survivors._

_John's hand drifted to his gun. He'd had to use it to silence people more times than he cared to remember. But a shot fired at the sky was quite effective in shocking people into silence, which was often the only way to shut anyone up these days._

_John didn't want the man to keep talking. People were dying. John knew that all too well. People died all the time, but these deaths were his fault because he had brought on this war. He knew that. He didn't need to be reminded. He already knew. He already bloody knew. He didn't need this young man to tell him something he already knew. He needed this young man to shut up. He needed this young man to shut the hell up. The man had to shut up!_ Shut up. Shut up! SHUT UP – !

Bang!

_The young man shut up. He stared at John in shock. Then his knees gave out and he fell over. Blood poured out of the hole in his chest where his heart had been._

_For a moment all John could do was stare. Then he shifted his eyes to his hand that held the still smoking gun._

_John remembered the sick sense of self-loathing the Doctor had felt whenever he had been forced to kill. John remembered those feelings as if they had been his own._

_But John also remembered the first moments of his own life. He remembered committing his own genocide of the Daleks and feeling only grim determination. He had felt no remorse then._

_He felt no remorse now, either. He only felt sweet relief at finally having a few moment of quiet for the first time in days. Even alone, the horrible voices of doubt and fear had plagued John's every waking moment since this war began._

_But now, for the first time in months, even those cruel voices were blissfully silent. For a few precious moments, all that existed was John and the body on the floor. The body that was still bleeding as it stared up at the ceiling with glassy, empty eyes._

_Oh hell. Oh hell. Oh bloody fucking hell._

_John tossed the gun aside in horror as he realized what he had done._

_He had killed a man in cold blood, just so he would be quiet. He had killed that man. He was a murderer._

_The Doctor had been right. John was a monster. He was a monster and a murderer. Oh god, a murderer. He had committed murder._ Murder.

_The voices would never be quiet now._

_John seized the gun again and started firing shot after shot into the body. It had worked once. It would work again. The voices would shut up again. They would shut up. Shut up! Shut up!_

_John didn't stop firing until he had emptied the gun. The voices had died down, but they were still there._

_John felt numb. He couldn't feel anything. He wondered if he would ever feel anything again._

* * *

"What the hell were you thinking, Ianto?"

Somewhere beyond the confines of his cell, the Doctor could hear Martha yelling at Ianto.

To say Martha was angry when the Doctor walked out of Ianto's bedroom would have been a severe understatement. She had been furious. She looked like she was about to explode.

Humans had such funny ways of depicting emotions. Then again, this was a parallel universe. Maybe here humans actually did explode when they were angry. After all, human emotions had been enough to overload the circuitry of Lumic's cybermen.

Whether it could happen or not, Martha hadn't exploded. Silently fuming (again with the funny depictions of anger), she had forced the Doctor out of the flat, taking him straight back to those cells where the Doctor had last seen Rose. Ianto had followed after a few halfhearted protests.

Despite having been here before, the Doctor hadn't known where this place was before Martha unceremoniously dragged him here less than an hour before. Martha had blindfold him when she brought him here before. He had been unconscious in a body bag when Ianto smuggled him out (he didn't like to think too much about why taking out a body bag was less suspicious than releasing a prisoner), and Ianto hadn't said much about the place after they were out. It was a safe place for the resistance, beyond John Smith's reach.

Martha hadn't bothered with a blindfold this time, either because in her anger she forgot or she didn't care, so the Doctor got to see the entrance to this safe place that the Preachers operated from.

Hidden behind a panel in the back of Martha's closet was a lift. It had only two stops, the closet, and a tunnel deep underground. The tunnel was a dark, gloomy, subterranean path that snaked around a lot before ending in a chamber with a transmat. The transmat was linked to only one other, which was here, at the safe place.

"Here" was an old military space station that had been abandon and forgotten, until the Preachers took it over.

The Doctor wondered how his duplicate had yet to find this place. Rose was smart. She probably had the space station covered in cloaking devices, but how had the transmat gone undiscovered in the decade or so that it had been down there? Ianto had barred the Doctor from tinkering with anything that ran on electricity for fear that John's scanners (which were as numerous as the cameras and microphones) would pick up something as alien. Even if the transmat was beyond the scanners' reach, how had the metacrisis not noticed the suspicious power surges under London?

"Rose is wrong! We need him!" Ianto's voice interrupted the Doctor's thoughts.

Upon arrival, Martha had locked the Doctor in a cell and then proceeded to yell at Ianto. Once she had calmed down enough to think rationally, she had started arguing with Ianto. They were right outside his cell, so the Doctor could hear everything. The argument was beginning to escalate into a shouting match again.

"Rose specifically said that the Doctor had to be on the next ship out!" Martha snapped.

"Why?" Ianto countered. "He's the only one who can save us!"

"Rose has a plan!"

"Not everyone can wait that long!"

"This isn't about Lisa! This isn't even about us! The Doctor has to survive. Far too often he's all that's standing between life and the destruction of the universe!"

"This isn't your bloody Torchwood field team. You don't just do what Rose says and replay her justifications until you believe them."

"I trust Rose's judgement. Don't you?"

"On this? Bloody hell no. He broke her heart. He ripped it out with his bare hands and gave her John Smith as a consolation prize. She's not capable of judging this rationally!"

Ianto's world stabbed something in the Doctor that he had been doing his best to ignore. It was big, dark, and ugly. It whispered of doubt and guilt, and harsh truths that the Doctor found too painful to look in the eye.

"You know what? Fine! This is your bloody mess. If it goes to hell, it's on you. I'm telling Rose" Angry feet stomped away, fading as they got farther away.

"Martha . . ."

The Doctor leaned against the door, hoping to hear enough to figure out what had happened.

The lock clicked. The Doctor backed up as the door swung in.

Ianto stood in the hall. He looked worn out, but he still managed a small smile.

"Now that Martha knows about you, it's probably safest if you stay here." Ianto said. "Maybe we can start working on some kind of plan while we're here."

The Doctor nodded in agreement. In the month he had hidden in Ianto's flat, he had gotten no closer to figuring out how to free the world of the metacrisis. Maybe he would have more luck here, among the people who risked themselves everyday to defy their corrupt dictator.

* * *

After her miserable breakfast with John, Rose had spent the rest of the day anxiously pacing every last square inch of the Tyler Mansion.

Rose hadn't called off the search yet. The Preachers needed to know that John had the sonic before they walked into a trap. She didn't dare contact them just yet, though. John was probably monitoring her every move right now.

Rose was on the verge of an anxiety attack. Her emotions were running around in circles. Worry and fear threatened to overwhelm her. The anxiety became heavier, until it was too much. Her mind started to go numb. The numbness blotted out the fear and she could breathe a little better. Then she would remember and start panicking again.

John had the sonic. He knew the Doctor had been here. He would look for the Doctor now. It was just a matter of time before he realized the Preachers had smuggled the Time Lord off-planet. There was no way John would turn a blind eye after that. He would methodically dismantle her band of rebels. He would kill they all and make her watch.

Oh god, he would never let Rose out of his sight again. Out of everything John was capable of, that was what frightened Rose the most. It was what drove her to take him down. She couldn't bear the idea of forever at his side, without even death as an escape.

Of course, there was the hope that Rose would outlive John. One day John would die, and Rose would at long last be free. But it was a bleak hope, born out of wishful thinking. Rose knew that John was using the new TARDIS to hop into the future for longevity treatments. Depending on where and when he was getting the treatments, he could easily live for another thousand years or so.

Rose resented her, the young TARDIS. Why did the ship lack the spark of rebellion that the Doctor's TARDIS had? Why did she not decide she knew better than her pilot? Did she never protest against the crimes in which John forced her accomplice? Did she feel no guilt for being forced to assist John commit the slow, methodical genocide of the Sycorax on her maiden voyage?

Without the TARDIS, John could have been defeated years ago. The ship was the key source of his power. Those who angered him had no time to run, not when he had a time machine. It was why he got away with the murder of the prime minister of Italy. It was why the world turned a blind eye when the President of the United States died mysteriously after publicly disagreeing with John. How could a man be fought when he could kill his opponents before they realized they were in danger?

Rose needed to get the Doctor's sonic back. She would probably give it to the Preachers. It might prove useful, or it might not. Either way, it didn't feel right to leave the Doctor's belongings with John. John would find a way to use the sonic, and whatever the Doctor kept in his pockets, for his own benefit. Rose doubted the Doctor would have wanted that.

Rose kept those thoughts in her head as she steeled herself to do what she had to. It was going to be a very unpleasant evening, followed by an exhausting night. It would be worth it, though, once she had the sonic.

It would be worth it.

Rose clung to those words as she forced herself to gag down the dinner she shared with John. Then again as she forced herself not to flinch as his fingers touched her skin. Then as he used her for his own pleasure.

It would be worth it.

Three hours later, Rose lay naked, staring at the ceiling. She shivered as she listened to the even breathing beside her. She didn't pull the covers around her, though. She feared she would fall asleep if she did, and tonight would have been for nothing.

John had fallen asleep a while ago. It could have been minutes, but it could have been hours.

However long it was, Rose decided it was time. Silently, she slid off the bed and slipped on a skimpy silk  _thing_  John had gotten for her a few years ago. She would have preferred something less revealing, but she had more important things to think about at the moment. Besides, she had stopped caring about things as trivial as modesty years ago. It was just another thing she'd lost in the years she'd been married to John.

Rose crept around the bed. Clothes that had been discarded last night were now scattered on the floor. It was hard to see in the almost non-existent light. Rose had to grope around to find what she wanted.

Minutes later, thought it felt like hours, Rose found John's jacket. She found the pockets and had to resist the victory shout that wanted to escape her lips. She had done it. She'd found the Doctor's sonic.

Rose made sure to be silent as she left the bedroom, but once she was out, she ran. She had to get the sonic to the Preachers' base, and then return before John found her missing. She ran down the halls of the mansion. She ran out the front door. She ran down the streets of London. She wasn't fast enough, though.

Rose was three blocks away from the chip shop when John's men found her. They seized her wrists and handcuffed her. Then, with a rough shove, they had her begin the walk back to the mansion.

As they walked, Rose caught a few of the younger men watching her. Their eyes eagerly drank in the sight of her barely-covered body. Such looks would have frightened her once, but now she ignored them. Back in the first years of John's reign, men had attempted to have their way with her. Rose wasn't sure what had happened to those men, but she knew John's men still passed down stories to the new recruits. They were stories that told of the horrors that befell those that dared touch the wife of John Smith.

So Rose ignored the hungry stare and walked with her head held high. She would not show these men any weakness.

John must have known she might try to steal the sonic. He must have added a tracker or something.

Before long, Rose was back at the Tyler Mansion. John was standing on the front steps, waiting for her. He watched as she approached. Rose could see all the emotions in his eyes – the anger, the betrayal, the frustration, and , worst of all, the love. He held out his had expectantly.

Rose met John's gaze defiantly. In the end, one of the men had to take the sonic from her tied up hands and hand it to John.

John put the sonic back in the pocket of his jacket, then turned to Rose. He caressed her cheek gently as he gazed sorrowfully into her eyes.

"Oh Rose, my Rose." John sighed sadly.

Rose turned her head away. She made no effort to hide her disgust. She had failed, so there was no point now. She would have to lay low for a while before attempting to contact Martha again.

"What am I going to do with you?" John wondered out loud.

Rose shuddered. She didn't think she wanted to know the answer.


	12. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry about just disappearing like that again. It's been months, so if you haven't given up on me yet, thank you very much. Good news, I have the next chapter pretty much finished, and the chapter after that is in the works, so it won't be long before the next chapter appears. Just a warning, John is at a very dark point in his life now, so there are vague mentions of massive amounts of violence and murder.
> 
> disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who.

_John slammed the doors closed, whirled around, and slid to the floor. He closed his eyes and willed his heart to slow its frantic pounding. It took ages, but gradually his ribcage stopped threatening to burst open. Thank goodness. That would no doubt have been a gruesome and messy death. Not to mention pathetic. To single-handedly save Earth by personally killing every last Sycorax, only to explode moments after within the safety of the TARDIS? Pathetic._

_He took deep breaths, inhaling the cool air of the TARDIS. Air that was mercifully devoid of the scent of guns and blood. How long had it been since he had breathed air untainted by the stench of death? Well, technically it had been a day. But it had been much longer for him, since he kept looping back through the same day over and over and over again. He lost track of his personal timeline after the sixth round, but he was sure it had been at least a couple months. A couple months of full time killing, only stopping to eat and sleep._

_Silence penetrated_ _the console room. There were no screams, no pleas for mercy, no rough final breaths. Just silence. John's first true silence in ages. Blissful, peaceful silence. A vacuum of sound. A horrible, auditory void that his mind was filling with memories of blood. Blood and the scent and sound of guns firing and more primitive, brutal methods of ending life and death and_ death  _and DEATH._

_There had been no choice. No other way to save the Earth from being razed to the ground by the hostile warrior race. In two years of futile defense, no other solutions had emerged. It had been John's fault that the Earth was burning. His selfishness and his love. It had been his duty to fix it. He had refused to run, not like the Doctor did. He was better than that, better than the Doctor._

_So once the TARDIS was ready for travel John had packed a few guns and taken off. He had assassinated every general of the Sycorax army. But they hadn't stopped_ _fighting_ _. So he assassinated the majors and captains too. And he just kept killing. Until every member of the army was dead. But he hadn't stopped there. The_ _civilian_ _Sycorax would hear of the brutal slaughter. They would tell their children stories of the blood-thirsty human beasts. They would raise a new army hell-bent of revenge._

_So John had just kept killing. He didn't stop until every last Sycorax man, woman, and child was dead. It was terrible and cruel. And it was exhilarating. The rush of adrenaline, the thrill of having the final say in when a life would end, the sense of absolute control, the triumph of watching the life fade from an enemy's eyes. There was nothing else in the universe like it._

_But now it was over. There would be no more killing anymore. It had been amazing, but it was time to move on. It was time to go home and fix things there. The war was over now, but Earth was still in shambles. John would lead his planet as they recovered. He would help Earth ease peacefully into the interstellar community now that humanity could no longer deny the existence of their extraterrestrial neighbors._

_More importantly, he would fix things with Rose. He would make sure she knew that she was forgiven. He would make sure she knew that she was loved. She would remember that they belonged together. He was never going to be so stupid again. He loved her, and he would never,_ never, _let her go._

* * *

In all the time the Doctor had stayed with Ianto, the Time Lord had been energy incarnate. Maybe it was being stuck in the flat instead of on wild, crazy adventures, or maybe it was the trail of destruction he left in his wake (Ianto's books and DVDs would never again be organized), but whatever the reason, the man's presence as always apparent.

Yet now, the Doctor followed silently as Ianto led the way through the base. Ianto had to continually turned around to check that the Time Lord was still there. Ianto wouldn't have known anyone else was with him if he didn't keep glancing at the Time Lord.

Four hours ago Ianto would have been thanking the god he didn't believe in for the peace, but now he found it disturbing. The Doctor was the Oncoming Storm. He flew time and space, always running, never staying in one place for long. He waltzed in and out of lived in a whirlwind, forever changing the lives of everyone he met. Not long ago, Ianto had bitterly resented the Doctor's flighty nature. Now he knew that the Doctor literally could not stay in one place. Looking back meant facing the regrets and guilt of the past. The Doctor kept running so his past couldn't catch up to him. Ianto still didn't like it, and he was sure it was far from healthy.

But it was who the Doctor was, and the Doctor's universe was a better place – so he heard – because of it. He wasn't supposed to be the silent, sober man that was following Ianto like a shadow.

Ianto wondered what was going through the Doctor's mind that it was using up all of that abundant brain capacity the Time Lord took pride in possessing. The Doctor had been silent ever since they had arrived at the base.

Ianto made another turn. He was taking the Doctor to the common room. Maybe talking with some of the other Preachers would help the Doctor figure out a plan. From all he knew of the Doctor – from both experience and stories – the Time Lord worked best when he had someone to help him, even if he all he needed was someone to brag to.

"I really hurt her, didn't I?" the Doctor asked.

The sudden break in the silence took Ianto by surprise. "What?"

"I hurt Rose." the Doctor repeated. Regret rang heavy in his voice. "I left her on that bloody beach. The same beach where she told me for the only time that she loved me. And I left her there with the metacrisis. She only had one heart, and she gave it to me. And I broke it."

Well that was unexpected. In the time he had spent with Ianto, the Doctor hadn't appeared to understand human emotions. He obviously cared deeply for Rose. Ianto doubted that the Doctor would ever intentionally hurt Rose. "Yes. You did." Whether or not he meant to, the Doctor had hurt Rose.

"I knew it. I knew leaving like that would hurt Rose, but I left anyway." the Doctor confessed quietly. He was talking more to himself than Ianto now. "I thought it would hurt less for both of us than if she stayed with me. She would never have seen her family again. She would never have gotten to have a normal life. And she would have continued aging while I stayed the same. She deserved so much better than that. I told myself it was better to leave. That she would be too angry at me to miss me. And maybe one day she might understand why I did it."

Ianto stayed silent. He didn't know how to respond to that. Maybe he wasn't supposed to. Just listening to the Doctor's speech felt like eavesdropping on something intensely private.

"I thought she could be happy here." the Doctor continued. "She had her mum and her dad, and a brother. I didn't want her to leave them for me. But I was ready to let her do it. And then the metacrisis was there, and he was just like me. I thought it would all work out. She wouldn't have to leave her family, but she would still have a Doctor. A Doctor that would age with her. A perfect ending. After everything she went through for me, she deserved that. I wanted her to have that."

Ianto felt almost guilty for his next words. What the Doctor had done had been out of love. That was as plain as day. But that didn't make it right and the Doctor needed to see that. "But you never asked her what she wanted."

"No. I didn't." A pause. "I should have."

"Yes. You should have." Ianto agreed with the Doctor.

"This whole this mess with the metacrisis is my fault."

Ianto couldn't disagree with that.

"I'm going to fix this. I won't leave until then, however long that maybe." The Doctor vowed. "I owe Rose that much."

"You still love her." Ianto observed. It wasn't a question. It was a statement. It was crystal clear that the Doctor would do absolutely anything for Rose.

"I do." was all the Doctor said in response.

"I think she still loves you too." Ianto wasn't sure why he told the Doctor this. It was probably just empathy. Ianto knew how it felt to lose The One. "She wouldn't be as upset about you being here if she didn't love you anymore."

"I know. She'll never be able to forgive me though, will she?"

Ianto didn't know how to answer that.

* * *

The Doctor followed Ianto through the maze of halls. He wondered what the military used this place for before the Preachers took it. Maybe it was one of the command centers. It would explain why it was so confusing to navigate. Infiltration was much harder if the floor plan was too complicated to memorize. It was a fact that high security locations often took advantage of, especially in the sixty-third (or was it the thirty-sixth?) century. The Doctor had encountered other places that used the same idea.

After Ianto failed to respond to the Doctor's last question, they had lapsed back into silence. The Doctor went back to wondering how he could possible liberate this Earth from the tyrannical rule of his metacrisis. He had to think of something, but he didn't know what to do. He never had been good with plans anyway. Most of the time he made everything up as he went along, and bluffed his way through the rest.

The metacrisis wouldn't fall for that, though. He knew exactly how the Doctor thought, how he solved problems, and how he improvised. He probably Doctor-proofed everything he did. Ending John Smith's rule would take very un-Doctor-ish methods.

Ianto turned a corner. The Doctor followed and emerged in a room. It must have been a recreational area or meeting room at one point. It was larger and more open than anywhere else on the base that the Doctor had seen so far. Now it looked more like the kind of place where wars were planned. Computers lined two of the walls. Maps and long strings of numbers – that were probably readings from one scanner or another – filled the screens. There was also a table surrounded by chairs. And a couch. The nice, fluffy, tattered, well-loved kind.

Someone was lounging on the couch. A young woman in her early twenties sat on it with her legs draped over one of the arms. She had light skin and a mess of curly brown hair. She was talking with a young man around her age. The man had dark skin and his head was shaved. He sat in one of the chairs, his feet propped up on the table.

They both looked so relaxed. The Doctor was a bit surprised. Everyone else he had met seemed tense and guarded. They all seemed to be living for the day when the nightmare that was the metacrisis would go away. They just wanted the world to go back to normal.

But these two had only been children when the metacrisis rose to power. For them, this was the normal world. They didn't like the metacrisis, but they were used to him.

"No, you're wrong Maria. I wish it were true, but it's not." the man said. "Even if it were true, there's no time for stuff like that anymore."

"Don't be daft, Clyde. Plenty of people manage it." the woman – Maria – chided. "And you're wrong. She does fancy you."

"Good, to see you two are hard at work." Ianto commented dryly.

Instantly, the young adults sat up straight.

"Mr. Jones." Maria nodded respectfully. "Sir."

Ianto gestured vaguely toward the wall of monitors. "If you'll excuse me, our newest recruit needs to be filled in on our main activities. Some fresh insight might be of use. We'll call you after that to discuss new ideas."

"Yes sir." Maria stood and left the room. The man – Clyde – followed her after a moment, leaving Ianto and the Doctor on their own.

Ianto waited until they were alone. Then he started doing things to the computer controls, manipulating displays and shifting things around. Most of them displayed scans for energy signatures and power surges. He started talking as he worked.

"You already know that the Preachers smuggle those unfortunate to have gotten on Smith's bad side off planet. Smith knows, but he can't find us, and we keep our other activities well below his radar. He considers us a nuisance, not a threat. If he knew we were actively trying to depose him, he would double his efforts to shut us down." Ianto began. "We are trying to find a way to end his rule, though. This tyranny has got to end, before so many generations pass that humans forget that they can fight back."

"What? How?" That made no sense. John had a human lifespan. How could his rule extend to multiple generations?

"Longevity treatments, Doctor. Surely you've heard of them?"

"But, why? And  _how?"_

"Why does he do anything that he does? For Rose." Ianto cryptically answered the first question. In response to the second question, "That is what I was going to tell you about. It's been Rose's goal since the end of the Sycorax War."

"Sycorax War?"

"It doesn't matter now." Ianto dismissed the Doctor's question. "Rose knows how John gets his life extending treatments. It's John's single greatest weapon in maintaining his power, and why we tread so carefully. We only get one chance, so we've got to do it right."

"What is it?"

"Most of us call it the Ghost Ship. It's the mysterious vessel that Rose claims Smith travels in to get his treatments. She thinks he also used it to end the war. No one, not even Rose has seen it, though she swears it's real." Ianto waved a hand at the monitors. "We've got scanners to detect any mysterious energy surges. She thinks if we find it we can end Smith's rule."

The Doctor felt a sickening sense of dread well up within him. It couldn't be what he thought it was, couldn't it? "Do you know what it is?"

"No. Rose has her own name for it, but to the rest of us it's just the Ghost Ship."

"What does Rose call it?" The Doctor was not the praying sort. That sort of thing was hard to believe in when he had witnessed in person the events that inspired mythologies that became religions. Nevertheless, he silently asked whoever might be listening that he was wrong.

"Rose says it's a TARDIS."

It didn't happen very often, but sometimes the Doctor hated being right. Now was one of those times.


	13. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tada! Another chapter, and it hasn't even been a month!
> 
> disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who.

_Leticia was there when John stepped off the TARDIS. She welcomed him home with open arms. John was happy to see her. Through this entire ordeal with the Sycorax, she had been his only true friend. She had stayed by his side through the war, when even Rose had abandoned him._

_So naturally, it was Leticia that John turned to after his disastrous attempt to repair his marriage._

_John wondered when everything had gone so horribly wrong. He had been angry when he learned of Bad Wolf's lasting effects on Rose. How was he suppose to trust her if she kept secrets from him? But he tried to move on. He thought they were getting better, slowly by surely. Then the war happened, and Rose was just gone. He saw her sometimes at their flat, but the war kept both of them too busy to be home much. Often, John would manage to steal a half hour for himself, only for Rose to be off doing whatever it was she had done during the war._

_John had thought that they were just too busy to focus on their damaged relationship. He had thought that once the war was over they would have time. He had thought they could pick up where they left off, back on the road to recovery._

_Rose had disagreed. She said that they had been over even before the war. She said that they should move on. Then she said that she would have asked for a divorce sooner, but they were both busy with the war at the time, so could they please do it now?_

_John had been devastated. He couldn't bear the though of losing Rose. He begged. He pleaded. He made promises to be a better husband. He swore he hadn't moved on yet, and he didn't want to._

_That was when Rose told him about Jake. Specifically, the affair they had started a few months ago. Jake was kind and he accepted her as she was._

_They had known each other since the first time Rose set foot in this universe, during John Lumic's cyberman invasion. More importantly, he had been there and John hadn't. No, Rose didn't think she and Jake would fall in love and get married, but what they had was nice. It was pleasant. It was enjoyable. It was everything she and John no longer were. She had moved on and she was happier now, and she wanted John to do the same._

_John couldn't remember what happened after that. He remembered there had been shouting and yelling. Accusations had been thrown both ways. There had been anger, resentment, hurt, and – most of all – betrayal. At some point he must have stormed off._

_The next thing he remembered was waking up on the couch in his office with the hangover he had vowed he would never again experience. The sunlight had streamed through his office windows. John had never hated the sun's rays more than in that moment. The light burned his eyes and threatened to implode his skull. And it was mocking him. It was bright and sunny, the start of a new day. It didn't care that John's world as he knew it had just come to an end._

_But Leticia was there, and she cared. She drew all the curtains, and brought him water and painkillers. Then she just sat down next the him in companionable silence. She didn't ask what happened, but it was clear that she was there for him if he want the talk about it._

_John was grateful. He didn't know what he would do without Leticia. She had always been there for him._

_Rose's words from the night before echoed in his head. She had told him that he should move on. He should find someone else. She wanted him to be happy. He just had to seek happiness elsewhere._

_John looked at Leticia long and hard. She was a lovely girl. They were so close already. And Rose wanted him to move on. It could never be the same as it had been with Rose, but Leticia was always there for him, so maybe he could trying being there for her too._

" _John?" asked Leticia uncertainly. "Are you alright?"_

_John hadn't realized he had been staring. Or that he had significantly reduced the distance between their faces. Or that he was closing what little space was left. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked. He could feel her even breaths on his lips now._

" _John." his lips tingled as he felt the air escape through her lips as she spoke. "Why?"_

" _Because you were there for me when no one else was."_

" _John."_

" _Say no and I'll stop." He didn't want to stop, but if she asked then he would._

_Leticia remained silent, so John tentatively brushed his lips against hers. Then he pressed their lips together and kissed her gently. She remained frozen and unresponsive at first. Then her lips started moving against his, tentative at first, but more confident as the kiss lengthened._

_Kissing Leticia was different from kissing Rose._

_Kissing Rose was like kissing time itself. It was exhilarating. It made his heart pound and his head spin. He felt everything at once. It was dizzying and overwhelming. It felt like flying and falling – and sometimes crashing – and it was amazing. When he was with Rose it was like being in a different universe, one that was especially for the two of them._

_Kissing Leticia didn't feel like anything like that. It wasn't thrilling, but it was good. He felt safe and in control. He only felt what was right here, the couch, his clothes, and the rise and fall of Leticia's chest as she breathed. But that was alright, because everything was tangible and right there with him_. _Leticia grounded him. John had always thought he would hate it, but he was surprised. It felt nice. There was no transportation to another universe. Instead, it felt like being tied down and firmly anchored to this one, in the very best way possible._

_So John kept kissing Leticia. And somehow they wound up lying flat on the couch. Leticia lay beneath him with her arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him down._

_John would always love Rose, but he couldn't have her. Leticia, on the other hand, was warm and soft and_ here _. So John let go and tried to lose himself with this kind, sweet woman. For just a while, he tried not to think about Rose. It would have to be enough._

* * *

Rose was missing. She was gone. She may as well have disappeared in a puff of smoke. She had vanished without a trace.

Martha had sent Rose a message telling her that the Doctor was still on Earth. She was sure Rose would respond as soon as she got a chance. That was fourteen hours ago. Now Martha waited anxiously for Rose to respond. She was getting worried.

Martha wondered what had happened to Rose. This wouldn't be the first time Rose had just gone silent for days at a time. Every now and then John would suddenly get extra suspicious, or possessive, or paranoid, or whatever it was that made him do what he did. He would barely leave Rose's side during those times, often making her accompany him to "work" and endure increased surveillance when it became necessary to leave her side. Rose was always agitated and exhausted once these streaks ended.

Rose really didn't need to extra emotional stress right now. Not with what Martha needed to tell Rose.

Martha waited some more, but after fourteen hours turned into twenty she gave up waiting. Who knew how long it would be before Rose was safe to make contact again. Martha was going to have to deal with the Doctor herself, and while she didn't want to go against Rose, Ianto had a point. The had all been enduring Smith's reign for so long now. None of them would admit it, but they were out of ideas. Rose's mad hunt for the Ghost Ship had been their only hope for years now, and while it would work, it could be years, decades even, before they found the Ghost Ship. Doctor would have a new, fresh way of looking at their situation. He was a new hope, a better chance of freedom.

So Martha went back to the base and sought out Ianto and the Doctor.

The first thing Martha did when she got back to the base was head to the common room. When the Preachers had taken over the base, it had been meant to be a war planning room, but over the years it had become the place to lurk about and socialize with whoever happened to be on the base. Someone had even brought a couch in an effort to make the place cozier.

Martha entered the common room to find the Doctor, Ianto, and four of the younger members hunched over a table, deep in conversation.

"We just need to find it." Ianto explained to the Doctor. "We just need to keep it away from Smith so he can't travel back and thwart us when we dismantle his empire. It's the only reason he wasn't overthrown years ago. How can you defeat an enemy that can go back and kill you before you even think of rebelling?"

"How have you been looking for his TARDIS?" the Doctor asked, glancing over at the monitors.

"We've been looking for suspicious power surges and temporal anomalies." one of the younger members of the group – his name was Clyde – answered. "Rose says that it uses vast amounts of energy every time it takes off, and it causes disturbances in the fabric of time."

So the Doctor was going along with Rose's plan. Marta felt her heart sink in disappointment. They had spent years looking for the Ghost Ship. Couldn't the Doctor come up with an entirely new plan? One that didn't involve the wild goose chase that too many people – including Lisa – had already died for?

"What about those?" asked the Doctor. He pointed at the monitors with the scans of Torchwood Tower on display. "Time has definitely been distorted there, and whatever is there is using up massive amounts of energy. Haven't you had a look there?"

Martha took a seat and answered before anyone else had a chance to. "Yes, Doctor. You're looking at scans of Torchwood Tower. John always has some new technology being developed and tested there. Rose says it's stuff he remembers from during your travels. It all uses huge amounts of energy, and some of it is responsible for the distortions in reality. The rest of the time and space disturbances are from our transmat. We built it under the lowest levels of the Tower. All those different, unfamiliar energy signatures mask our transmat on Smith's scanners. It's how we've stayed hidden all this time."

The Doctor looked and Martha and beamed. "Ooh, that's brilliant. Who thought of that?"

"Rose." Martha answered. "It was her idea to put it under the Tower. She said that so many of Smith's projects there are so secret he won't even register them on his own scans for fear of hackers. She was right. We hacked his scanners, but even his scanners just read the Tower as a mass of energy."

The Doctor was quiet for a while. He stared at the screens, deep in thought. Then he spoke softly. Just a single sentence, that sent Martha's head reeling. "Or maybe he's hiding something too."

No. It couldn't possibly be that simple. Could it?

* * *

Rose woke up dazed and confused. She was in a bed that, while soft and comfortable, was far too narrow to be the bed she shared with John. How had she gotten here? Where was here? The last thing she remembered was John looking down on her with disappointment and the unconditional love that terrified her so. She blacked out after that. Probably one of John's men had given her a sedative.

Rose needed to figure out where she was, so she sat up to have a look around. She was a bit surprised that she hadn't been chained to the bed or something (she would rather not revisit that particular memory). All thoughts of restraints fled as soon as she realized where she was.

She was in her room on the TARDIS. She was in her room on the Doctor's TARDIS. What had happened? Had it all been a dream?

God, she hoped so. She wanted to walk out of this room and see her Doctor. She wanted to find him and tell him that she had just had the strangest nightmare ever. In her nightmare she had been stranded in a parallel universe. Her mum had been there, married to an alternate version of the late Pete Tyler, and they'd had a son. And Rose had married to a human clone of the Doctor, who turned out to be a horrible bastard.

She wanted to tell the Doctor. Then he would tell her it had been some alien induced vision caused by psychic pollen or something. Or maybe they would have a laugh about how strange a nightmare it was. Or he might just launch into a very scientific explanation of why people dreamed while Rose nodded even though she didn't understand half the words that came out of his mouth.

Maybe her mum was right. Life with the Doctor was changing her. Rose would never leave the TARDIS, even if she got tired of the danger, the aliens, and the running, she could never leave the Doctor. But maybe a break would be a good idea. She could ask the Doctor to let her spend a few days in London. Maybe she would be able to convince him to stay with her.

Rose crawled out of bed. She stood and stretched, then shuffled to the door. She turned the doorknob, only it refused to budge. She twisted harder, it must be jammed. It couldn't be locked. The TARDIS only locked the door if Rose or the Doctor asked, or if the ship felt it was necessary.

"Doctor?" Rose called through the door. With any luck he would hear her and get her out quickly. "Is everything alright out there? The TARDIS won't let me out of my room. Doctor?"

There was no answer. But that was no reason to panic. There was surely a perfectly reasonable explanation.

Then she caught sight of a note on the nightstand. Confused, she picked it up and read it.

_My dearest Rose, I hope you are comfortable._ _You are in the TARDIS we grew from the piece of the Doctor's TARDIS._ _Do you like your room? I thought you would appreciate the familiarity. I'm sorry about locking you in, but you can't keep lying to me and stealing from me. I love you, but I can't have you going behind my back. Marriages are based on love and trust, remember? I'm going to find and dismantle your little rebel group, then you won't have to lie to me anymore._ _I will fix this, Rose. I promise. But until then I need to keep you safe, away from all those rebels who have turned you against me. The TARDIS will provide everything you need. Stay safe. Love, John_

Everything came crashing back down then. It hadn't been a dream. That horrible, nightmare was reality. Rose furiously tore John's note to shreds. How dare he write her such tender, loving words. He may as well have locked her in a prison cell. In many ways that would be an improvement from this.

This whole situation was one of the cruelest ironies Rose had ever had the misfortune to experience (she had a fairly long list of them, promising forever and then being forced to live apart forever, finding the Doctor again only to be left behind as a twisted act of love). She was in a room she had desperately wanted to return to for almost two decades only for it to be used as her prison. She was in John's TARDIS, right where she had been trying to get for the past decade, but now that she was here there wasn't a bloody thing she could do.

Rose pounded her fists against the sealed door a few times. She knew such actions were fruitless, but she couldn't help it. She had to take out her frustration somewhere. She beat her hands against the door until her knuckles were bloody and stinging.

Then she simply slid to the floor and stared blankly at the wall. A tear or two slid down her cheek, but other than that she just sat there. She was done crying. She didn't have any tears left to shed. Somewhere between her marriage falling apart and being locked in this room, she had used up all her tears.


	14. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for yet an other extended wait. College classes just kind of consumed my life. Thank you to everyone who followed, favorites, and reviewed this story so far. Classes are over now, so I'm going to try to update more quickly. Thinks for sticking with me.
> 
> disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who

_It wasn't enough. It was stupid to think it could be enough. Leticia was a lovely woman, but John loved Rose. He always had and always would. Rose was everything to him. He hated her a bit for that. She was the only thing he had ever wanted, but she was the only thing beyond his reach._

_John's affair with Leticia lasted only a few weeks before he ended it. Leticia was a kind, sweet, smart woman. She deserved to find someone who would love and adore her. Some idiot that would never deserve her, but that Leticia would chose and be happy with. John had used her. He had needed to forget, and she had been right there, so tempting and so convenient. She deserved better than that._

_So John let her go. For a few days after they tried to go back to how they were before, but it didn't work like that. Of course it didn't. John couldn't look at her without recalling the despair and desolation that had driven him into her arms. Also, there was the guilt. He had selfishly used her, failed her in every way possible. He couldn't work with her anymore, not after everything he had put her through._

_John still had the world catering to his every whim. When he had first been given this power it had terrified him, but he had accepted the responsibility and resolved to use his power only for the good of Earth. Though the war was over now, he was still the sole leader of the planet. The people of Earth were turning to him for guidance to rebuild and heal now that the war was over. John was doing the best he could._

_The world owed him. They owed him a lot. They cost him his peaceful life, his marriage, and his very soul. It was about time John collected that debt._

_So he did. First he set up Leticia with a very prestigious job in Torchwood's human resources department. Never again would she have to worry about things like money or job security. He owed her that much. Then he went after Jake._

_John found Jake – the treacherous bastard that had tried to steal his Rose – and cornered him. It was funny. The last time John had killed a fellow human it had filled him with disgust and self-loathing. Watching the light of shock and betrayal (which only angered John more. Jake was the traitor, not John) die from Jake's eyes as the man released his final breath was just as easy as it had been when he killed the Sycorax._

_And god, it was so much more satisfying. John had killed the Sycorax out of duty and loyalty to Earth, but this? This was personal. This was removing the man who thought he could take Rose away. This was vengeance. It was dark and it was bitter and it was hideous. It was triumph of the worst kind. And it was glorious._

_Covering his tracks to hide his hand in Jake's death was so simple. The body of Jake Simmonds was found in an alley just off his usual route to work. They found three wounds to the chest believed to be made by the standard laser guns used during the recent war. His wallet was gone, so it was assumed to be a mugging. They never identified the murderer. With so many soldiers attempting to readjust to civilian life in the wake of the war, it could have been anyone._

_Rose cried for the loss of her friend and lover. She didn't turn to John for comfort, though, which made no sense, since she was his wife. She was supposed to see the error of her ways and come running back to him. She was supposed to apologize for being unfaithful ant ask for forgiveness. John would have welcomed her back with open arms and forgiven her._

_But Rose didn't come to him. Instead, she sought to console herself surrounded by Jackie Tyler and the family that woman had built in her time in this universe. There had been many times when John had been at odds with Jackie Tyler, but never before had he resented and hated her so._

_John began making arrangements. He acquired some photos, made some phone calls, and wrote some letters. Next time Rose sought out her mother for comfort, Jackie Tyler was going to be unavailable and John would be conveniently ready to offer a shoulder to cry on._

* * *

Ianto's first thought after the Doctor voiced his theory was that someone should have thought of it sooner. It was so obvious. Torchwood Tower had so many strange energy readings that it was the best place to hide technology that needed to remain hidden. Why had it never occurred to anyone that the Ghost Ship might be concealed in such a way? Of course Smith would think of it, and he was paranoid enough to do it. The transmat was proof that it was easy to hide secret energy uses amount the tower's jumbled mass of energy.

Ianto's second thought was that even if the Doctor was right, how would they possibly find the ship? Torchwood Tower was one of the tallest buildings in London. Experiments and cutting-edge technology were tested on every floor. They would literally have to search every inch of the tower. They would never be able to do it. They would be caught for sure.

Still, it was a fresh idea. It was something new that no one had thought of before. It was a new hope in a battle that had looked hopeless for years now (though no one had ever dared admit it).

Martha was excited. Ianto couldn't remember the last time he had seen her so excited by anything. she poured her efforts into defeating John Smith with a renewed vigor. She was planning to get some of the Preachers' best tacticians and strategists together. She wanted to lay out plans and plot John Smith's downfall. She wanted to infiltrate forbidden places and fight to the last man. She was eager and hopeful that maybe  _this_ would be the plan that worked. Or maybe she was just desperate.

Ianto only allowed himself a more cautious sort of optimism. He had stopped holding on to real hope when Lisa had died.

With nothing else to do, Ianto found himself in the base's makeshift kitchen with the Doctor. It was too dangerous to return to his flat for now, though he planned to sneak back at some point to retrieve a few personal belongings. They may not know what the Doctor looked like – or even that he was on the planet – but Martha had literally dragged the Doctor out of Ianto's flat. It was bound to raise suspicions. Surveillance of the flat and the surrounding area would no doubt be increased for now.

As Ianto watched, the Doctor rummaged through the kitchen. Ianto didn't know what the Doctor was looking for, but after sharing a flat with the alien for the past month, he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Ianto cringed at the memory of fish fingers and custard, and an inhuman obsession for jammy dodgers. How the Doctor could have such terrible tastes was a mystery, especially considering that the Time Lord was quite decent in the kitchen.

Ianto was therefore surprised when a plate piled high with toast was set down on the counter in front of him.

"Thank you." Ianto shot the Doctor a questioning look.

"We never finished our dinner." The Doctor said in response to Ianto's unasked question."If I remember correctly, you humans need to eat ridiculously often."

"Oh, well thanks." Ianto took a piece of toast from the stack.

The Doctor merely nodded ant took a slice of his own. For a moment they just stood there in companionable silence. It was oddly reminiscent of those first few days together at Ianto's flat.

"Rose and I used to joke about how I could never settle down." The Doctor said thoughtfully, through a mouthful of toast. "I was a wanderer. Never stayed in one place longer than I had to. I didn't want to, and honestly, I didn't think I could.

"I've hated being stuck in your flat. It was just as boring as I always imagined it would be." The Doctor continued. "I like you, though. I'm going to miss having you as a flatmate."

Ianto felt a pang as he realize that this was it. It was the end of the oddly pleasant time they had shared together this past month. This was a goodbye of sorts, and despite the Time Lord's destruction of the flat, Ianto was going to miss the Doctor too.

lanto opened his mouth, only to close it again as he realized he had no idea what to say.

The Doctor just smiled a bit nostalgically in understanding. "I know you blamed me for mucking up your universe. I'm sorry for everything my mistakes have put you through."

lanto gulped, not sure how to reply. He settled for, "I know. It's why I forgave you." As he spoke, he was struck by the revelation that it was true. He had stopped holding the Doctor at fault for Lisa's death and not even noticed until now.

"You're a good man lanto Jones. I hope your life after all this is over will be brilliant."

It hit lanto then like a freight train. This might be  _it._ After all these years, John Smith might meet his long overdue demise. The Doctor just might save them after all. For the first time in years, lanto let himself imagine that there might be light at the end of the tunnel. For the first time in far too long, Ianto hoped.

* * *

lanto seemed to be having some sort of revelation, so the Doctor took a few more slices of toast for himself and left. In all his years, the Doctor had found that humans experiencing revelations were best left on their own to sort out their reeling thoughts. Humans, after all, just didn't have the same brain capacity. They could only focus on so many thoughts at once.

Taking a bite from one of his toast slices, the Doctor wandered aimlessly through the winding halls of the base. He wondered where Rose was. She probably didn't want to see him ever again, but he still wanted to see her. He hadn't seen her since that day in the cells, and he wanted to see her again. He knew he would never be able to adequately apologize to her, but she was in charge here. Even is he couldn't have her forgiveness (he didn't deserve it anyway) he wanted her acceptance and approval of his help.

He also wondered where Martha was. He needed to find her. He needed to talk to her. Whether Rose allow his help or not, the Doctor was sure that Martha would be reasonable and accept any help he offered.

The Doctor was going to fix this. He owned it to the people of this world to save them from the fallout of his mistakes. He owed it to Martha, who never spoke of what had become of her family. He owed it to Ianto, who still quietly grieved for his dead wife. He owed it to Jackie, who had fled this planet with her husband and son. He owed it to the poor TARDIS that was meant to keep the stars within Rose's reach. He even owed it to John Smith, who had been abandoned before he was even a day old.

More than anyone else, the Doctor owed it to Rose. His beautiful pink and yellow human, who he had never deserved. His brave girl who ran with him, who never left his side until she was torn away. His precious girl, who would have stayed forever, if only he had let her. He owed her for abandoning her. He owed her for breaking her heart. He owed her for the loss of her family. He owed her for not listening. He owed her for not believing in her. He owed her everything, and he was long overdue to repay her.

The Doctor knew what Martha was planning. It was fairly obvious. She wanted to infiltrate Torchwood Tower. If there was even a chance that John's TARDIS – the "Ghost Ship" as they called it – might be hidden in the Tower, the Doctor had no doubt that Martha would tear apart the place piece by piece.

But it would be a suicide mission for any who dared to try. The Doctor knew his metacrisis was clever – of course he would be, he had almost all the same memories as the Doctor. And the metacrisis was paranoid. Everyone knew that security would be tight, but the Doctor doubted that many of them besides himself knew just how far John Smith would truly go. He was the only one who stood a chance of walking out alive again.

He had to find Martha. He had to convince her to let him go on his own. This whole thing was his fault, and he was done letting people get hurt because of it. No more. That was what he said last time, wasn't it?


	15. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have returned! Thank you so much to everyone who has stuck with me so far. I'm so sorry to keep leaving you hanging. The next chapter will hopefully be finished sooner. It's half written right now.
> 
> Also, I'm on tumblr now. I'm @shadowsintheflames over there.

_After Jake died, a few months passed in an uneasy sort of calm. John's messages to Jackie seemed to work. When Rose sought out emotional support, Jackie was consistently unavailable or already occupied. John, on the other hand, was always ready to be there for Rose. He offered compassion, sympathy, empathy, and anything else Rose was willing to accept from him. It worked most of the time. And when it didn't, when Rose ran to Jackie, John would send Jackie a firm reminder of what would happen if she tried to keep Rose from him._

_Rose rarely smiled, and she never seemed pleased with this new arrangement. John knew she just needed time to adjust. She was used to seeing her mum whenever she wanted. She deserved every happiness, but she also needed to realize that the world was a cold, cruel place. Her mum wouldn't always be there, but John would be. He just wanted her to see that_ he _was the one who was always going to be there for her. She needed to learn to trust him as he trusted her._

_John spent all his waking hours now as a pillar of strength and support. When he wasn't at Rose's side, he was guiding the Earth on the path to recovery. Eventually he was going to reestablish the national governments from before, but not yet. The world was hovering on the brink of chaos already. Any more divisions would send life back into a downward spiral._

_Until then, the world needed order and unity. It was exhausting, but John did his best to be the leader that Earth deserved. Many of his efforts – particularly the curfews and improved law enforcement – were unpopular. He knew most of his current policies were only temporary solutions until the world was stable enough to no longer need them, but why couldn't the rest of the world see that his actions were necessary? He started having protestors and rebels arrested. He hated doing it, but he had no choice. Order must be kept, or they would plunge into the world into anarchy._

_Then Jackie Tyler – along with Pete and Tony – simply vanished into thin air. It took John by surprise._ _He wondered if there had been a miscommunication and someone had carried out his threats. Those kinds of mistakes were unacceptable. What if it had been someone important? John fully planned on finding whoever made the mistake and making them endure the same fate as the Tylers._

_Rose clearly didn't want John to see how upset she was, which confused John. Her entire family was gone. Of course she would mourn. John wanted to be there for her, but Rose wanted her space._

_But, not long after, more people started vanishing. They would disappear from right under the noses of his officers._

_At first, John couldn't figure out what made all of them so special. Most of them were violators of some law or the other, but most of them were minor offenses. Then, one of the many ignorant protesters who had been stirring up trouble unwittingly solved the mystery while being interrogated._

_"You do realize how dangerous your actions are, right?" asked John. He usually left interrogations to his inferiors, but it helped to know how the minds of his opponents worked._

_"The danger would be in not acting," the woman spat. "We have submitted ourselves completely to you. It's time we took our home back."_

_"Ma'am, this planet is my home too," John replied calmly. "I'm only acting in the interests of Earth. Surely you must see it, so why don't you agree to cease this needless rebellious streak."_

_"No, this is my home and I will fight for it. If I just wanted a better life, I would have left Earth when they offered," the woman scoffed._

_John paused, surprised by this turn of events. "When who offered?" he finally managed._

_The woman shrugged. "I dunno. I've heard rumors. Didn't expect them to be real."_

_Interesting. "What rumors?"_

_"Protesters, rebels, anyone who dares disagree with the all-powerful John Smith disappear, never to be heard from again. Supposedly, there is this group of people who save the rebels, get them off Earth. But we both know that you can make anyone disappear that you want, I always thought it was a myth. A story to give hope to those that had lost hope. Turns out I was wrong. I would be careful if I were you, Mr. Smith."_

_"Why should I care? They keep the rebels from stirring up trouble. They're doing my job for me."_

_The woman leaned forward, a fierce spark in her eye. "Because an operation that big needs resources, and you're the man with all of them. I think you have a traitor in your midst, and whoever they are won't always be content with merely surviving."_

* * *

_This could be it._ The thought kept echoing through Ianto's mind as he wandered the Base in search of Martha or the Doctor. For better or worse, everything was about to change. With the Doctor on their side, they would either tear down John Smith or be defeated once and for all (Ianto wasn't so naive as to think that John Smith would let them quietly continue as before after this, and he planned to flee Earth if they lost), and Ianto was going to be there to see it happen.

Ianto found the Doctor just as the Doctor found Martha. He stopped at the corner of the hall, before he could be seen.

"You want to infiltrate the Tower, don't you?" asked the Doctor.

"Yes," Martha confirmed. "We've got to make plans. It's going to be dangerous no matter what, but if we're careful and we really do find the Ghost Ship, it will be worth it."

"That sounds like an excellent plan," the Doctor said brightly. "Tell you what. I've got a better plan. Just send me. I know the metacrisis better than anyone, except maybe Rose. I'll be better prepared than anyone else would be, and no one else has to go risking their lives."

"No!" came Martha's vehement and immediate answer. "Rose has told me about how you 'plan.' You can't just go storming in armed with nothing but that bloody screwdriver you're so fond of. You don't even have it. Rose has driven herself mad trying to find it before John does. If he finds it, he'll know you're here."

"I'll have you know I've saved loads of planets without the sonic. I can do this, and I need to. If I don't, then people are going to get hurt," The Doctor argued.

"Bit late for that. People have already gotten hurt," Martha retorted.

"But they don't have to this time."

"Rose wouldn't want you to do this."

"We traveled together for two years, saving planets everywhere we landed. Yes, she would want me to do this."

"It didn't look like she wanted your help last time she saw you."

"Even if she doesn't want my help, she knows me well enough to expect me to anyway. If you don't believe me, go ask her yourself."

"Well I'd love to, but I can't, since as she's disappeared and all."

There was a pause. Then, "Wait, what?"

"Rose hasn't been in contact for nearly a day," Martha shrugged. "She's still married to John. It's hard to keep secrets when you live with the one you're deceiving. Sometimes it's just safer for everyone if she lays low for a while. She's probably fine."

"What if she's not?"

"Then she'll have to fend for herself, because there's nothing we can do."

"But I can."

"Doctor, you may have advantages, with your Time Lord biology and superior knowledge, but you are still only one man. You can't storm the Tower by yourself. You'll be captured long before you find the Ghost Ship."

It struck Ianto then, that this was what he needed to do. This was his chance to finally avenge Lisa. "He won't be alone. I'll go with him." Ianto stepped into view.

Martha and the Doctor. stared at him in surprise. When they didn't say anything, Ianto kept talking.

"Martha's right. It would be impossible to search the entire Tower alone. The two of us won't be enough, either."

"I can't ask you to come with me," the Doctor protested.

"You're not. I'm volunteering," Ianto countered.

"Let's say we go with your plan, Ianto. You go with the Doctor, then what?" Martha asked, before the Doctor could make any further objections.

"We'll infiltrate the Tower. Once we're in, send a distraction for security. Focus the distraction away from the upper levels. If the Ghost Ship is really in the Tower, John Smith will keep it close."

For a second the Doctor and Martha were both silent. They just stared at Ianto. Martha looked like she still wanted to protest. The Doctor just looks resigned. After spending a month living together, the Doctor knew better than to dissuade Ianto.

"Excellent," the Doctor relented, "But the metacrisis will know you expect his TARDIS to be near his office. We will have to search the whole Tower. Let's go Ianto." The Doctor unceremoniously grabbed Ianto's wrist and attempted to drag him off.

"You can't just run off. You'll get yourselves killed, if you're lucky," Martha protested.

Ianto was tired of waiting. Lisa had been waiting to be avenged for years. He had lived in the fearful world that John Smith had created for longer that he had ever wanted. There was an end of some sort in sight now, and it couldn't come fast enough. But, as must as Ianto would have liked to storm the Tower with the Doctor, he knew Martha was right.

"She's right, Doctor. We need to make a plan. We can't all be masterminds at improvisation and luck. If we're going to do this, we need to do this right. For Lisa." Ianto felt manipulative as he continued, but he knew the Doctor would continue to protest otherwise, "And for Rose."

The Doctor still looked like he disagreed, but he bit back his protests. After a pause, the Time Lord gave a slight nod. "I suppose we could plan a bit. For Rose."

* * *

Rose wondered how this had happened. What went wrong? She and John had been happy once. How had it come to this? Could she have done anything differently? When had everything fallen apart? When had her sweet husband been replaced by this delusional, power-mad maniac who had locked her in here? Had the man she married ever been more than an illusion?

Rose felt her distress agitating the TARDIS. The ship sorrowed in Rose's misery, and sent Rose waves of comfort to sooth her.

"It's okay, girl. It's not your fault."

In response, the TARDIS pushed waves of guilt into Rose's mind.

"He made you do it," Rose protested. "You didn't have a choice."

The TARDIS sent images, then. John using her to slaughter all the Sycorax. John using her to keep restless politicians in line, and eliminate the ones that didn't cooperate. John using her to hop to the future for longevity treatments. She helped him do terrible things, and it filled her with guilt.

"I forgive you." Rose felt her resentment wash away. The TARDIS was a victim as much as anyone else. She didn't deserve to be condemned for John's actions.

The TARDIS protested. She didn't want forgiveness. John used her to do terrible things. She knew that she was his secret weapon, the reason he was still in power. She wanted him to stop using her.

Rose felt a burst of hope fill her chest, but she was quick to smother it. Hope always left room for disappointment, and Rose was almost always disappointed. But, maybe not this time. The TARDIS wasn't on John's side. "Then don't let him. Lock him out."

The TARDIS sent an image of a key. Unlike the Doctor's TARDIS, this TARDIS was completely intact, which meant that all the safety features were still functional. It wouldn't have done for a Time Lord to be locked out of his own TARDIS simply because the ship was in a foul mood.

"Can you let me out, then?"

The TARDIS radiated frustration. John had left her with strict instructions not to let Rose outside. The ship couldn't disobey a direct command.

Rose tried to find a loophole in John's command. "Well, do I have to stay in this room?"

There was a pause, but then Rose heard a click. Rose glanced at her door. It had swung open just a crack.

Rose allowed herself a small smile. For years, smiles had been armor to plaster on her face. It felt strange, to smile genuinely after so long.

There would be time later to dwell upon that, though. Right now she needed to escape. She pushed the door open and stepped out into the TARDIS.

Rose didn't know what she could do with the ability to roam the TARDIS. Years ago, the Doctor had talked about teaching her to fly his TARDIS, but then the mess with Torchwood happened and she got stuck in this bloody universe for the first time. Still, it was a start.

**Author's Note:**

> Please review! :)


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